Strange Love: The 2012 Collection
by Lodylodylody
Summary: The Legendary Suite Life random pairing challenge is back!  Watch the kind of stories that can happen when your beloved characters are thrown together in totally random pairings!  Love!  Comedy!  Heartache!  There's something for everyone!
1. Introduction

**Introduction**

By Lodylodylody

**'*'*'**

"Alright class," Emma Tutweiller said in an effort to refocus the discussion. "Let's stick to the topic at hand."

"What was the topic?" London asked with genuine confusion, having become lost in her text conversation with Chelsea.

"Romance," Cody replied.

"With you?" the heiress scoffed. "Keep dreaming. I don't understand how Bailey puts up with you." She then turned to her roommate. "You can do so much better."

"No, no," Cody said in exasperation. "The topic is romance in literature." He paused. "And besides, I am quite a catch!"

"Of course you are sweetie," Bailey reassured him. "But back to the point…some people think that romance in stories needs to be between characters that were specifically designed to be together."

"Like in _Romeo and Juliet_," Addison offered. "I mean, obviously the whole story was planned about them being in love."

"Yeah, and that worked out so well," Zack said.

"But I think that if you write good three dimensional characters," Bailey went on. "Then romantic storylines can develop naturally. Just like real life. You never know who you'll fall for."

"That's crazy," London objected. "Romance only works when people are meant to be together."

"But how do people know if they're meant to be together or not?" Bailey countered. "Who can say? Under the right circumstances, anyone could fall for anyone?"

"Well, maybe not for Woody," Cody commented.

"Hey…hurtful," the curly haired boy responded.

"You know," Ms. Tutweiller said, "This could be an interesting exercise. To see if stories can be written where any two people, chosen at random, could be presented in a believable romance."

"What?" Zack asked. "You mean we just draw names out of a hat to see what characters we use in the story?"

"Exactly!"

"Sounds insane," Zack concluded.

"I think it sounds like fun," Bailey enthused.

"Hmm…I wonder what would happen if someone tried to pair us off at random?" Addison mused.

**_And so it begins…_**

_*'*'*'*'*'*_

**If you're interested in participating in this year's collection here's what you need to know: **_Anyone is welcome to participate, and pairings are totally random. _

_If you're interested in participating PM me and you will be sent a pairing. If you don't like your initial pairing you get one do-over, but then MUST write for the do-over pairing. _

_Stories may be any rating (M stories must be clearly marked as M rated when you send them in). You are welcome to request the type of pairing you'd prefer (m/f, m/m, f/f, or anything goes) when you ask for a pairing but remember the characters you receive will be assigned TOTALLY at RANDOM. _

__No incest pairings will be given out._ No pairings that are illegal due to age differences. No depictions of or allusions to sex between adults and minors. If someone were given a pairing of an adult and minor, their story must be set in a time period where the younger character is 18 or over. The only exception to this is if you wish to write a story where the younger character is a minor and is portrayed as having a one-sided crush on or infatuation with the older character. _

_All characters that have appeared in the Suite Life series are eligible to be drawn for these stories, including the crossover characters. All stories must be ONE-SHOTS, complete in one chapter. You are welcome to submit as many stories as you can write. _

_For further details about the rules please visit the 'Strange Love' threads at my forum boards. Stories should be sent to me via docX connection. _

_Have fun everyone!_


	2. James Doyle

**Piano in the Dark**

By

James Doyle

After four grueling, but intensely-fulfilling years at the Zurich Academy of Dentistry, Todd St. Mark returned to his native Boston. His father having sold off the St. Mark Hotel empire upon retirement, he no longer had anything to fear either from him or the Tipton staff. This gave him great joy, as he hoped more than anything to reunite with his beloved London.

Alas, it was not to be. Hoping to surprise London with a visit, the new manager Esteban Ramirez informed him that London was attending school at sea. As she changed phone numbers frequently, he had no way of contacting her. Indeed, he knew that he had to accept the probability that London had moved on.

Unsure of what to do with himself at this point, Todd decided to have a drink or two in the lounge. He'd heard that former rocker Carey Martin was a regular fixture at the lounge. Carey belonged to his mother's generation, so he wasn't familiar with her music, but he had heard good things about her. This, however, left him unprepared for what he was about to see and hear.

Just as Todd's gin and tonic arrived, a tired, annoyed man with bleach blond hair took the stage. After a heavy sigh, he took the mic in hand and introduced the evening's entertainment.

"Good evening, ladies and gentleman," greeted the man with a minimum of enthusiasm in his effeminate, nasal voice. "And welcome to the Tipton. Please give a round of applause for our very own Carey Martin."

The crowd cheered, Todd was sure, for Carey, and not for the emcee. As he left the stage, the lights dimmed, the piano began to play, and the spotlight slowly came down upon the singer's face as the curtain drew back. Todd found himself motionless and speechless as the brunette beauty in a dark red sequined gown came into view, and began to sing.

_When I find myself watching the time_

_I never think about all the funny things you say_

_I feel like it's dead_

_Where is it leading me now_

_I turn around in the still of the room_

_Knowing this is when I'm gonna make my move_

_Can't wait any longer_

_And I'm feeling stronger, but oh_

Todd reckoned the singer had to be at least a decade and a half older than he. And yet, he couldn't take his eyes off of her. The subtle movement of her womanly hips as she sang, the gentle blowing of her shoulder-length brown hair, and of course the way her lips moved all had him hypnotized.

_Just as I  
>walk through the door<em>

_I can feel your emotion_

_It's pulling me back_

_Just a little more time_

_To love you_

But perhaps most captivating of all were her eyes. He couldn't tell what color they were under these lighting conditions, but the sensual energy they transmitted was undeniable. At a moment just before the first chorus, he thought...no, it couldn't be...could it...that she had locked eyes with him.

_Oh no_

_Caught up in the middle I_

_Cry...just a little_

_When I think of letting go_

_Oh no_

_Gave up on the riddle I_

_Cry just a little_

_When he plays piano in the dark_

Todd was sure he hadn't moved from that position the entire evening, as Carey put her own personal touch on hit songs and old standards throughout the evening. As she finished her last set, he seriously contemplated going up and talking to her. He thought better of it, knowing that a woman like her deserved a man far more experienced in the ways of love.

Todd paid his tab and headed across the street to his room at the St. Mark. As he prepared for bed, he started thinking about London again. Still disappointed that he wouldn't see her, he began to realize it was probably for the best. In the morning, he would attend the first of many interviews as he began his dental career. For the time being, he felt grateful to have spent an evening under the spell of the enchantress Carey Martin, who helped him to forget his cares for an evening.

That evening, Carey returned to her suite to prepare herself for some much-needed sleep. As she looked in the mirror, she remembered the gaze of a dashingly-handsome young man in the audience. She was sure she'd seen him somewhere before, but couldn't put her finger on where or when.

She'd thought about greeting the young man after the show. She'd also thought about luring him back to her suite and showing him a night he'd never forget. She was certain she could show him things the silly little girls he no doubt caroused with had never even thought of. Of course, she'd decided against it, as aside from her torrid fantasies, she knew she wasn't that kind of gal.

Still, she couldn't help but smile as she thought to herself:

_Yep, still got it._

**The End**

_Todd St. Mark was the son of the rival St. Mark hotel's owner, who courted London Tipton agains the wishes of both parties' fathers. He appeared in the _**Suite Life of Zack and Cody** _first season episode "Cookin' with Romeo and Juliet". He was played by Ben Ziff._

_Carey Martin, the mother of Zack and Cody, a talented singer, mentor to Maddie and London, and all-around classy lady, was a regular character in _**The Suite Life of Zack and Cody**, _and the character from that series to make the most guest appearances (four) in _**The Suite Life on Deck**_. She was played by Kim Rhodes._

*'*'*'*'*

Song Credit:

"Piano in the Dark"

Written by Brenda Russell, Jeff Hull, Scott Cutler

Originally performed by Brenda Russell

From the album _Get Here _(1988)


	3. Purplewowies

**A/N:** I've managed to sneak in references to other stories in the past years of this collection, and this year's no different. :D I've put in a part related to _Never Come Back_ (something you're probably only ever going to get from this story) and a reference to last year's collection. Hope you enjoy it!

* * *

><p><strong>Kisses and Basketball<strong>

A Suite Life Strange Love Fanfic

by purplewowies

Spending the money from an entire diamond necklace was hard work.

Padma had been walking through the streets of Boston all day. She had managed to make it to the harbor, where a ship was docked. She decided to move a bit closer and check out the ship.

It was the SS Tipton. It seemed like she could never get away from that ship. She saw Mr. Moseby and her would-have-been teacher, Ms. Tutweiller, along with a swarm of students coming down the gangplank.

She turned around and walked away from the ship as fast as she could. She did not want to be seen, despite the fact that the group knew she was not a student anyway.

She ducked behind a stack of crates and waited for the crowd of cruise-goers to pass. She listened to random snippets of the conversations that walked past her.

"I really feel bad about all the times I've yelled at Zack over the years."

"Mr. Auckepenny and I are having a hard time figuring out what to do in regards to his grades."

"I heard something bad happened to one of the other students."

"I _can't wait _to get to the New England Aquarium! I heard there's a reef exhibit with tons of animals! I read that there were sharks and stingrays and barracudas and sea dragons, though I wonder if a sea dragon is anything like a real dragon. Ooh! Do think it breathes fire?..."

"Like a third of the class is missing. What do you think happened to them?"

"I bet they got stranded in a lifeboat again."

"Nah, I heard one of them got hit by a car!"

"How do you get hit by a car on a boat?"

"Mr. Auckepenny's labs are supposed to be really hard next week."

"And Sarah _actually _ate it!"

"We're collecting seawater from a bunch of different ports for this bacteria experiment in my biology class."

"And there's also eels and sea turtles. Oh! I wonder if there'll be dolphins! I wonder if we'll get to pet them? I love dolphins! When I was little I used to think they were fish because some kid said so in a movie..."

As the last girl's voice faded away, Padma peeked up from the boxes. The group was pretty far off in the distance, so she got back up and continued to walk away from the ship. She made it out onto Boston's streets again. She rounded a few corners and ended up in front of a large, sprawling building. The awning read "The Tipton." Curiosity getting the better of her, she walked inside. She was immediately greeted by her pompous ex-roommate from the SS Tipton, who almost ran her over.

"London, what are you doing here?"

"Well, first off, when I'm not on the ship, I live here, but my friend told me to get all these tapes out of his suite," she said, shaking the box in her hand, which was filled with several VHS tapes labeled _Superbook _and _Flying House._ "However, I don't think _you_ live here. What are you doing here?"

At that, Padma hesitated. "My... aunt and... I... are staying here on our trip around the world!" she lied.

"Oh... okay! Yay you! I'd jump and clap, but I gotta run!" she said, sprinting out the door that the doorman was holding open.

Padma continued to stand in front of the revolving doors, marveling at the large, extravagant lobby in front of her.

Suddenly, a ball flew by, just inches from her face.

"Guys, look at what you're doing!" a man screamed as he came out of the hallway to Padma's right, followed by an entire team of boys in wheelchairs.

"Sorry, Darryl," the team replied as they continued to be reprimanded by the older man.

A young man with spiky brown hair came up to her.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yes, fine," Padma nodded.

"That's good then," he said. "You have a very pretty voice, by the way. I'm Jamie." He held out his hand.

"I'm Padma," she said, shaking Jamie's hand. "Why...?" she said, unsure of how to phrase her question. She wanted to ask about the group of boys in front of her. She had never seen anything like it back in India.

Jamie seemed to read her mind. "Why is there a group of boys in wheelchairs in a hotel lobby?"

Padma nodded.

Jamie smiled. "Our wheelchair basketball team is practicing for exhibition basketball games against the Buckner Middle School Badgers and the Cheevers High Chipmunks. This is our sixth year of doing it. It's pretty much tradition now. The Tipton lets us use their gym to practice for these games. I'm the oldest guy on the high school level team, and I'm the assistant coach of the middle school level team."

Padma smiled back. "Oh, it sounds cool!"

"Why don't you come? The games start at three tomorrow in the community center's main gym." Without giving her a chance to think about it, he went over to the group of boys and started chatting about game strategy.

It seemed that Padma would be going to a basketball game tomorrow.

* * *

><p>Padma climbed up to the second row of the bleachers. As she sat down, she noticed she was paying attention to the conversation going on behind her. She just couldn't stop eavesdropping in this town!<p>

The voice of a female said, "So, why did we come back to Boston, hon? Especially with the new cast replacements coming in soon? You know how new people freak me out!" The girl gulped in a huge breath of air.

A male's voice replied. "Calm down, sweetie. It'll be fine. I didn't propose so I couldn't be with you through everything, thick and thin. Actually, I'm surprised you said yes after only a year of dating. Anyway, I came to visit some friends, but Queen Tut said they weren't here and she couldn't tell me where they were. Confidentiality or something."

As the couple behind her started talking about wedding plans, she felt like she was peeking too much into their private lives and moved down to the first row of bleachers, directly behind Jamie's team's bench. Jamie was talking animatedly with some teammates on the gym floor. Suddenly, he turned and looked in Padma's direction. Their eyes locked, and Jamie smiled. He moved over to where Padma was sitting.

"Hey, you came!" he exclaimed.

"Yeah, here I am," she replied, feeling a tad nervous and bubbly as she noticed that Jamie had rather defined arm muscles.

"Well, I hope you enjoy it! The high school game is first, then it'll be the middle school one! Can't talk long; I've got a team to attend to!"

A couple of minutes later, the scoreboard's buzzer loudly sounded test sounds into the crowded gym.

Loud, repetitive screams were heard from the Buckner Middle School team's coach, who was sitting in a pimped-out electric wheelchair on the other side of the gym.

"Sorry! I can never get used to that," he apologized. As he (and the rest of the shocked gym) settled down, the games began.

Honestly... Padma wasn't that interested in basketball. She had never really liked sports.

But she kept her eyes locked on Jamie, who seemed to be the star player, for the entire game, watching as his muscles rippled and sweat beaded on his skin.

The game wasn't long enough.

Padma's rapt attention to the game stopped as soon as the high school guys left the court and the scrawny middle-schoolers took their place. Compared to Jamie, who seemed to know every move in the book and exactly when to execute each one, and the rest of the high-schoolers, the middle-schoolers seemed slow and inexperienced by comparison. She began to examine her fingernails as she let the conversations around her flow into her.

When she heard one question, though, she honed in on the conversation it had come from, pretending to still be examining her nails so as not to look conspicuous.

"So you got a date for prom?" one of the guys on Jamie's team asked.

"No," he said rather loudly, almost appearing to want attention drawn to him, "I don't have a prom date."

He then lowered his voice, as if there were someone he were trying to hide the next part of the sentence from, but Padma could still hear him.

"But there is someone I want to ask, though," he said quietly, glancing back at the crowd for a fraction of a second before turning his attention back to the game. He had looked directly at her. Padma's heart skipped a beat. He then changed the subject to something sports-related, but Padma didn't pay attention to that.

She didn't pay attention to much of anything for the rest of the game.

The game ended, and the entire crowd of spectators left the gym, save for Padma and one other girl. Padma picked up her purse as the other girl ran up to Jamie and asked the question, "Jamie, do you want to go to prom with me?"

Padma, though she wanted to stay behind to talk to Jamie after the girl was finished, instead decided to leave the gym, suddenly nervous for some reason. As she walked toward the exit, she could hear Jamie's reply.

"Sorry, Vanessa, but I was kinda hoping to go with someone else," he said.

"Oh... okay," Vanessa quietly replied, disheartened at the rejection. Padma, though she didn't turn around, knew that the girl had walked away from Jamie. She was almost out the door when she was stopped by a yell.

"Hey, Padma, wait!"

Padma turned around to see Jamie coming toward her. She decided to meet him halfway. When the two met, they stopped, and there was a brief silence as they looked into each other's eyes.

"I... I wanted... to ask you..." Jamie started.

"Yes?"

"Um... I really like you, and I was wondering... would you like to go on a date with me? We could see a movie, and I know some great restaurants."

"Yeah, sure," she said, then paused. "For a second there, I thought that you were going to ask me to prom!" she laughed.

"Well, I wouldn't mind that," he said. "Would you like to go to prom with me?"

Padma smiled. "Let's try the date first," she said as they left the gym together.

* * *

><p><strong>My assigned pairing:<strong>

**Jamie- **Zack and Cody's friend in the Suite Life episode "Back in the Game." He is portrayed by **Nathan Kress**, who currently stars as Freddie on Nickelodeon's iCarly.

**Padma- **London's original roommate in the first episode of On Deck. She is portrayed by **Tiya Sircar**, whose latest projects are Breaking the Girl and Domino Effect , which are both in post-production.

Other characters included London (the hotel heiress), Vanessa (Zack's love interest in A Midsummer's Nightmare), Marcus (Zack's former roommate), Millicent (nervous candy girl that filled in for Maddie), Arwin (hotel handyman), and Addison (hyper girl who's 98 pounds of pure power :P). Most of these aren't mentioned by name, so it's a relatively easy game of "Where's Waldo?" to find them. :P


	4. Snapplelinz

_**A/N: **Hi, everyone! This is my very first oneshot for 'Strange Love 2012' and slightly more angsty than my previous stories. I hope you enjoy this one :D_

**Breakfast at Roy's **

by Snapplelinz

***'***

With a weary countenance, Kurt Martin pulled up to the renowned Roy's Motel and Cafe in Amboy, a sleepy desert town in San Bernardino County, California.

The creaky bones in his rough hands turned the steering wheel on his vintage red and white Ford Shelby GT as he parked listlessly in a vacant spot next to an available gas pump.

Even the attendant looked just as tired as he felt. "What'll it be?" he asked in a lazy drawl.

"Fill her all the way to the top. I'm not planning on sticking around." Kurt answered tersely.

His newly purchased black Wayfarers were glued to his face so that no one would be able to see the sleep-deprived puffy bags which had collected under his parched eyelids.

He'd been driving for several hours already without stopping and every bone in his body was stiff with exhaustion and every muscle he had ached with a vengeance.

He would kill his band manager and the record label for switching the tour dates and destinations if he weren't so damn tired.

So what if nobody had actually showed up in Albuquerque to see the band play?

That wasn't a good enough excuse to change everything around at the last minute.

It probably wouldn't have been a problem if Kurt hadn't left during a break in the tour to visit Zack and Cody right before graduation on the S.S. Tipton. But he was far too irritable to think rationally about anything at that precise moment.

He'd gotten off the boat when it docked in New York after the ceremony was concluded. Then he'd boarded a flight from JFK to Sky Harbor International in Phoenix, Arizona.

There weren't any available flights heading directly to LA, so Kurt had asked a buddy of his who worked for a shipping company to transport his beloved car to Sky Harbor so he could drive approximately 400 miles to LA.

It wasn't one of his most inspired ideas, considering how exhausted he felt right now.

He'd only be able to tolerate talking to anyone after he'd consumed a mug of steaming black filter coffee (no milk, plenty of sugar) with a shot of Jack in it just to perk him up.

Then he'd find a motel somewhere along these dusty streets and stay in Amboy for the night.

Luckily, Roy's had a motel too, so he wouldn't have to travel far to lie on a soft (and hopefully) squishy water bed for a long and well-deserved nap.

Then he'd head down to Planet Hollywood, where the rest of his band members were waiting for him, most likely partying it up in some seedy club and sleeping with as many of their groupies as they could muster while inebriated.

For a moment, Kurt almost felt nostalgic.

He'd almost forgotten what it felt like to be young and not give a fuck about anything and everything trying to stand in his way.

That frame of mind hadn't wavered much when he'd married Carey and they'd had the twins. It didn't disappear either after he and Carey had divorced and the boys had gone to Sea School aboard the S.S. Tipton.

Nevertheless, he was older now and his band was making fewer hits which topped the Billboard Charts.

He felt like he had hit rock bottom when their label forced them to release a 'Greatest Hits' compilation; this was certain death for any rock group that had been performing together for longer than 20 years without changing lead vocalists at least 5 times.

Being away from home (which resembled any hotel he happened to frequent during the tour nowadays) was becoming trying, something Kurt had never anticipated.

He missed his boys.

He even missed Carey some nights when he wasn't getting any.

As soon as this rotten tour through America's Least Frequented Dives was over, he was taking a plane (he'd sent his baby there via cargo ship) back to Boston to be with his family again.

He was through with being on the road once they finished up in LA, the last spot on the tour.

That's what he always told himself every time he walked off some battered stage at 2 in the morning, smelling like puke and day-old piss.

But there was something about the old muse that kept calling him back somehow.

So here he was, paying close to 100 bucks for gas (un-fucking-believable!) and walking into a diner with 50's décor from the dingy red booths covered in faded white leather right down to the smell of burnt bacon frying on the grill.

He took a seat on an old rickety chair beside a table that was currently balancing its full weight on just three legs. The fourth seemed to have given up altogether, wobbling precariously all by its lonesome, making it impossible for Kurt to rest his elbows on its matted surface.

The only thing fast about this joint was the 20-something waitress who appeared at his side, as if she was an apparition.

She was dressed in a clichéd turquoise blue blouse with white lacy trimming above her cleavage and a matching mini skirt that showed off her pale legs with white ankle-socks and clean white sneakers on her feet. Her dirty blonde hair was tied in a high pony tail and any possible fly-aways were kept back by a white visor, which left her blue eyes dark and hidden.

"What'll it be?" she demanded more than actually asked.

The nametag located on her left breast identified her as 'Daisy', something that Kurt thought was extremely ironic in comparison with her overall demeanour. She was chewing loudly on a large piece of gum; Kurt was morbidly fascinated by the way the wad of masticated candy rolled through her parted lips from side to side as her cheeks contracted and expanded each time.

"Black coffee, no milk. What's the special?" Kurt asked, nodding at a nearby sign.

"Tuna melt," Daisy barked without looking at the sign, her eyes glued to the tiny notepad in her hand.

"I'll have that too. And a plate of fries," Kurt answered, handing back the menu.

Daisy took it from him and sauntered towards the concave of the kitchen where the magic happened, her petite hips swaying jadedly from side to side.

There wasn't much else to do but wait.

Kurt couldn't even pretend to use the web browser on the new smartphone that Cody had bought him for his last birthday. The battery was almost dead and had a shocking life to begin with – what was so smart about that anyway?

Normally, he'd read the paper, even if he did just end up going straight to the Sports section. But considering how boring this town looked, Kurt seriously doubted that anything newsworthy had happened in about 50 years.

So he took to observing other customers in the diner.

There weren't many of them, save for the odd truck driver sitting at the counter, their jeans sagging and showing an unhealthy amount of crack.

There was one family of four: a man and woman who looked liked children themselves while their two rowdy kids did everything at the table (yell, fight and throw things) except eat their meals.

And then he saw Her.

She was sitting all alone a few paces away at a wobbly table just like his.

She had to be at least 20 years his junior, looking a little older than his own kids. Her long dark brown hair cascaded flaccidly over her shoulders, revealing her bare pallid skin on her neck and arms. She used her calloused fingers to consume the plate of French fries before her with ferocious intensity, like she was scared that someone would snatch it away from her at any second.

Kurt only noticed just how blue her eyes were long after he saw the bruises on her arms and the pink ring around her arched cheek bone.

He gulped nervously when she began wiping her mouth with a napkin and caught his eye.

She just stared right back for the moment, as if she was genuinely flattered by his interest in her. Then she went right back to devouring the rest of a half-eaten cheese burger and sipping daintily from something in a white cup next to her in-between.

His order arrived at that moment.

"How long has she been here?" Kurt asked Daisy before she could disappear again.

The sullen waitress shrugged while texting on her cellphone that she had retrieved from her pocket. "About an hour."

"Who is she?"

"I don't know, some rich bitch or something."

"How do you know?" Kurt queried curiously.

"She's wearing a Rolex, and it don't look like no cheap knock-off neither," Daisy replied in a resentful manner.

Feeling like her duty was finally done, she sauntered away again, leaving Kurt to his pensive thoughts.

He didn't know what persuaded him to do it. But he was suddenly in front of the young woman, staring down at her with a mixture of pity and fascination.

She ignored him for a good 10 seconds, praying he would go away and leave her in peace. But when it looked like that wasn't going to work, she finally faced his penetrating stare with a glower of her own.

"What the fuck do you want?" she snapped.

"What's your name?" Kurt asked in a gentle tone.

The woman laughed mirthlessly and shook her head before responding. "Go to hell."

Kurt ignored her and sat down. "Who did this to you?" he persisted, gesturing to her arms and face.

"Would you just leave me alone?"

At that moment, Daisy arrived at the woman's table and practically threw Kurt's tuna melt and fries and his cup of coffee down with a clamouring bang before stalking off.

He hadn't even asked her to bring his order to a new table.

Was the sulky waitress actually clairvoyant?

It looked like leaving this damsel in distress wasn't an option after all.

"No."

The retort astounded both of them, Kurt the most. The young woman glared at him for a long time before relenting, as if she had given up on life altogether.

"If my parents could see me now, they'd berate me for not remembering my manners." The hostile brunette murmured with a strong case of nostalgia. "Make yourself comfortable," she offered with a wave of her hand. "All of the other assholes in my life have."

"Did one of them rough you up too?" Kurt demanded, the anger evident in his voice.

"What do you care? Who the hell are you anyway?" the woman retorted furiously.

The remaining customers and staff were beginning to stare in their direction. But no one looked concerned, mostly just intrigued by the dramatic turn of events beginning to unfold before their eyes.

Kurt cleared his throat and tried to get a hold of himself and the current situation.

"I'm Kurt."

The woman continued staring at him, possibly wondering if the middle-aged man in front of her wasn't just another apparition too.

"Aren't you gonna tell me your name?"

"I'm Chelsea Brimmer of Boston, I'm an heiress. Happy now?" she fumed, pouring one too many teaspoons of sugar into her cup of tea in her present state of agitation.

"Who did this to you?"

"My bastard of a husband. So I took off."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

"Aren't you a little young to be married?" Kurt asked in a jocular tone, hoping to put the young woman at ease.

Since there was nothing else to do at this point, he sat down and made himself comfortable while tucking into his Tuna melt.

Chelsea smiled ruefully at this and picked a French fry off of Kurt's plate. "I'm 22. Are you married?" she asked after licking salt daintily off of her fingers.

"Was, but she wised up eventually." Kurt replied wistfully.

"Sounds like a smart woman," Chelsea teased.

"She is. Ditching me is probably the smartest thing she ever did." Kurt answered with an easy smile.

In the midst of her current predicament, Chelsea was amazed that a smile from a handsome, albeit weather-worn and older stranger, could still make her blush.

This guy spelled trouble.

Then again, she'd had more than her fair share of trouble lately.

Maybe a little trouble was just what she needed.

"So what brings to you Amboy? Taking in the sights?" Kurt questioned, adding an extra sugar to his already sweetened coffee.

"What sights?" Chelsea snorted in that disdainfully nasal tone of hers. "This place is a shit hole."

"Point taken, I'm just passing through myself."

"Where you heading to?"

"California, I'm meeting my band there. We've got a gig in LA." Kurt explained through a mouthful of tuna melt.

"You're a musician." Chelsea stated more than actually asked, leaning back in her chair to examine Kurt more closely.

She should've guessed just from his faded brown leather jacket and wrinkly tanned face that seemed to hint at consumption of copious amounts of booze and drugs indicative of the music scene.

"Guilty," Kurt remarked with open palms. "And where are you heading to, Princess?"

Chelsea flinched at the derogatory title.

It's not like she hadn't heard it a thousand times before.

Yet it still managed to inflict damage with its innate accusation about her heritage and her life style.

As if she had chosen to be born rich.

"Fuck off!" she yelled, the chair underneath her scraping loudly as she got to her feet.

"Wait, I'm sorry!" Kurt protested before she could walk away. "Just wait a second."

Chelsea didn't owe him anything. Nevertheless, she found herself turning around and sitting back down again.

"I'm sorry, let's just start over," Kurt continued.

He placed his hands on the table just close enough to hers, but not close enough to scare her off again.

He could tell just by looking at her dusty clothes that she'd had a rough couple of days.

"How 'bout we make like you don't know anything about me and I don't know anything about you? Sound good?" he offered graciously.

Chelsea hesitated, looking anywhere but at the middle-aged man sitting across from her.

A clean slate was exactly what she needed in her life right now and this guy was giving it to her for a free.

What a concept.

Maybe he wasn't so bad.

"Actually, it's the best offer that anyone's ever made to me." Chelsea admitted.

Kurt found himself smiling widely when Chelsea's frown creased into a reluctant grin of her own.

This strange girl really was beautiful when she smiled, with her full lips and arched cheekbones.

"How'd you end up here?" Kurt asked curiously, watching as Chelsea helped herself to more of his French fries.

Chelsea shrugged before answering. "I bought a plane ticket with my credit card, 1 of 5 that I possess actually. Got the hell out of Boston and ended up flying to Tuscon on a whim. Then I hopped onto a bus for the first time in my life and somehow wound up here about an hour ago."

"I flew into Phoenix yesterday and drove the rest of the way here." Kurt stated.

"So we're both stuck here for now." Chelsea noted, making full eye-contact with Kurt now.

"I guess so," Kurt agreed, matching her tone. "Where you staying?"

"No where. I'm still holding out for a better offer." Chelsea admitted with all the practised indifferent eloquence of a spoiled socialite.

Kurt smiled even wider at this response, sensing the unspoken proposition in her words.

Challenge accepted.

"Hey, Roy!" Kurt called out to the man standing at the cashier counter, startling Chelsea momentarily. "You got any rooms available at this motel?"

"Just one I think," the man answered, even though the name tag on his shirt said 'Jerry'. "Ask by the front desk outside."

Kurt looked back again and found that Chelsea was staring at him with a raised eyebrow. "My, aren't we being a little presumptuous?"

Kurt smirked at her and leaned across the table. "You said it yourself, we're stuck together, might as well make the most of it."

"Is this your round-about way of getting into my pants?" Chelsea asked with a tinge of flirtation in her tone.

"You're just gonna have to stick around to find out." Kurt replied with a sly wink.

He fished out his wallet from his jeans pocket and took out several bank notes, which covered the costs for both his and Chelsea's meals.

Even though she would never admit it out loud, Chelsea was extremely touched by the gesture.

"Let's go." Kurt commanded gently.

Considering that she had nothing better to do with her time, Chelsea acquiesced and followed Kurt out of the café.

10 minutes later, Kurt unlocked the door to his and Chelsea's room at Motel de la Roy.

The drapes were shut, bathing the tiny room and its modest beige carpet in a cool green light. The queen-sized bed was made up in a delicate manner with an unassuming green and white floral print bedspread thrown over it. Two wooden pedestals were placed on each side of it, two simple lamps on top of them.

The bathroom was small and clean, consisting of a toilet, a bathtub with a shower nozzle attached to it and covered by a see-through curtain with yellow ducks on it. The sink was located next to the toilet and a smudgy mirror hung above it, containing a lip-sticked message of 'I love you, Sugar' on it where the cleaning staff had evidently missed a spot.

Kurt tried not to smile at the look of disdain and revulsion on Chelsea's pale face.

"Oh my God…" she trailed off, her brown eyes darting around at their humble surroundings. "This place is hideous."

"I'd expect that response from an heiress," Kurt remarked, depositing his suitcase and Chelsea's Chanel shoulder bag (her only luggage) onto the bed. "Just be grateful that there aren't any roaches." He added glibly.

"I'm gonna take a shower. Make yourself comfortable."

Chelsea didn't answer.

Instead, she plonked herself down on the bed and immediately picked up the remote on the pedestal and began flicking through channels like she was supremely bored. Kurt shook his head and grabbed a fresh pair of jeans, his favourite black briefs and a long-sleeved blue flannel shirt from his suitcase. Leaving the young woman on the bed to her own devices, he disappeared into the small bathroom and shut it behind him.

The hot water guzzling out of the ancient nozzle was a welcome relief to Kurt's dehydrated skin and aching muscles.

He was usually a '5-minute shower' kind of guy. However, he took his time under the welcoming spray, soaping down every inch of his body and washing his hair twice with 'Head & Shoulders' to get rid of the dust and sand which had settled in his thick brown locks during his impromptu road trip.

He felt almost human again when he stepped out of the bathtub and began towelling himself dry. After dressing himself, he ran his trusty comb (which he carried in his back-pocket at all times, thank you very much) through his sleek wet hair a few more times and exited the steamy bathroom.

"Bathroom's all yours." Kurt announced and stopped short.

Chelsea was passed out on the bed in her black leggings and short-sleeved off-the-shoulder blue peasant blouse, her beige Ugg boots still on her feet and snoring quietly.

With her arm tucked underneath her chin and wrapped protectively around her skinny waist, she almost looked peaceful and even more beautiful than Kurt could have ever imagined was possible.

This seemed like a good enough time for him to slip out quickly and buy a couple of essentials for the remainder of his road trip like cigarettes, a six-pack of Dr. Pepper, beef jerky (an absolute-must for a road trip) and a slice of cheesecake (he got hungry at midnight) if he could one.

Kurt felt strangely guilty about leaving Chelsea behind, like she had suddenly become an integral part of his life. He immediately shook off the protective vice that threatened to make him stay.

So instead, he settled for leaning over her lithe frame and kissing her cheek to appease his troubled thoughts.

"Sleep tight, Princess. Don't be gone when I get back."

With one final look at the sleeping beauty, Kurt sighed and closed the door gently behind him.

It was close to 6pm when Chelsea woke up abruptly from her slumber.

It took her several seconds before she realised where she was.

The motel room was dark save for the two lamps above her head, which bathed the bed in a dull yellow glow.

"You're awake," came Kurt's voice from the corner of the room.

He was sitting on a black loveseat with his legs resting on a beat-up coffee table looking back at her.

Had he been watching her while she slept?

The thought sent a shiver down Chelsea's spine.

She didn't know whether to be scared or turned on.

So she shrugged it off and sat up gingerly while yawning.

"What time is it?" she asked, trying to make small talk.

"About 6pm." Kurt answered swiftly. "You feel like getting a drink?"

"Where?" Chelsea asked suspiciously.

She hadn't seen any bar around this hell-hole.

"Roy's. They break out the booze once the evening shift starts. I got talked into being the entertainment for the night." Kurt replied in a sheepish voice on the last part.

Chelsea smirked at this and got to her feet, stretching out her limbs in a leisurely manner, giving Kurt a nice view of her chest. "Guess I'd better wash up and change."

"Into what?" Kurt questioned suspiciously. "You don't have any clothes!"

Chelsea ignored the question and shut the bathroom door behind her. Kurt heard the sound of the faucets being turned on a few seconds later.

"You go ahead so long, I'm gonna be a while!" Chelsea called out from behind the bathroom door, shedding her clothing tinged with dust and sweat.

"I guess I'll see you when I see you," Kurt muttered to himself.

With an audible sigh as he contemplated how he kept getting into sticky situations, he closed the motel door behind him with a soft click.

By the time Kurt had lent a helping hand with setting up the speakers and the microphone for his impromptu music debut in Amboy, the crowd outside Roy's had tripled into that of a mob.

"These people probably don't get too much entertainment round here," Kurt muttered to himself.

With that said, he admired the way the yellow street lamps overlooking the highway seemed to illuminate the gas station, making the desert terrain seem far more romantic at the approaching pink and orange tints of dusk.

He took his fifth swig of Jack Daniels from a metal flask propped on his knee. His trusty Fender guitar was already strapped around his chest and plugged into an amplifier and he was seated on a wooden stool in front of a microphone.

Time to get this show on the road.

"Hello, Amboy!" Kurt called out.

The crowd responded enthusiastically, cheering and screeching at the top of their lungs while they stood in the tiny gas station amidst the vacant pumps.

"For those of you who haven't heard of me, my name is Kurt Martin and I'm the lead singer of a band called 'Kurt & The Pleased To Meet Ya's'. We're supposed to be playing a gig up in LA this weekend and I was a little late to the party. But since I'm here right now in this beautiful town of yours, I'd like to start off my set with a Dolly Parton classic called 'It's All Wrong, But It's Alright'."

Kurt strummed a few minor chords beforehand on his guitar to get a feel for the rhythm of the song.

Then he closed his eyes and pictured that he was playing in front of a bigger crowd and started singing slowly and assuredly.

"Hello, are you free tonight? I like your look, I love your smile." He began in a bluesy-type voice, his long fingers pulling away at the metal strings.

At that moment, Chelsea appeared, pushing her way through the throng of people till she stood a few meters away from where Kurt sat and played.

Despite her hasty departure from Boston, she'd had the foresight of bringing along a slinky purple Arturo Vertalli dress (a favourite of hers) with matching purple wedges in her Chanel bag.

The look suited her well, making her pale shoulders and bare neckline far more sensual under the white fluorescent light emanating from 'Roy's'. And it made her shapely legs look even longer, giving the impression that she was far taller than her lowly height of 5"5.

Kurt had finally seen her in the crowd, his mouth crinkling into a smile.

"Could I use you for a while? It's all wrong, but it's all right." He continued.

Several members of the crowd began singing along with Kurt all round Chelsea while her own hips swayed to the opulent tune of his guitar.

"It's all wrong, but it's alright!" Kurt exclaimed, his usual lower register reaching a sudden crescendo as he reached the chorus of the song.

"Just close your eyes and hold, hold me tight," he begged in a raspy murmur, bowing his head for a few seconds.

"Tell me sexy lovin' lines," he continued, his eyes locking with Chelsea's while his rough fingertips strummed away on his guitar.

He knew he had her full attention when she smiled back at him, a coy grin carved onto her tantalizing lips.

"It's all wrong, but it's alright."

Kurt opened the door to his motel room with shaky hands.

He'd lost sight of Chelsea in the crowd once he was finished with his set and he was desperate to see her again.

He hoped that she hadn't taken off; a feral force had taken over him when he first saw her in the crowd listening to his music.

He unlocked the door and nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw her sitting on the lone bed in the dark.

"Shit, you scared me! I thought you'd left." He stuttered, feeling peculiarly nervous.

"Why would I have left?" Chelsea asked him in a curious half-whisper, wearing what appeared to be a long bathrobe.

Kurt locked the door and pulled his guitar off of his shoulders. Then he leant against the door while he thought of how best to answer her question.

"I-I don't know. You just…I didn't see you near the end when I was wrapping up. It's not like you have any reason to stay." He finally ventured.

He heard Chelsea chuckle in the semi-darkness as she got to her feet.

"I couldn't leave before telling you what I thought of your song." She murmured in a demure voice.

"So, uh, what did you think?" Kurt asked, his hands feeling clammy all of a sudden.

Chelsea undid the straps on the bathrobe and let the thick white garment pool around her ankles, revealing her bare skin. "How 'bout we make like I don't know anything about you and you don't know anything about me? Sound good?" she offered in a tantalising whisper.

Instinctively, Kurt pulled his leather jacket off of his muscular arms and tossed it onto the floor behind him.

Then he moved well into Chelsea's personal space and engulfed her waiting lips in a hard and hungry kiss.

It was fast when her hand latched around his arm and pulled him close and it was slow when her other hand reached out and gently stroked the scratchy stubble on his cheek.

It was forceful when their thighs and hips met in an unruly collision, but tender when he stooped to kiss every single one of the purplish bruises on her neck and cheek with a doting lover's caress.

It was poetic when their bodies lined up in symmetrical cadence, yet seductive when she bit his bottom lip and her fingers explored his abdomen with impetuous perfection.

It was chaste when he gazed at her with pure reverence, but magnetic when he simply claimed her agile and willing body till she was breathless in his arms.

His tanned skin complemented her milky complexion with breathy moans and guttural groans as they tumbled over into an unknown world, making a symphony that was entirely their own.

And when they were finished, she slumped against his chest and let the tempo of his erratic heartbeat lull her into the most soothing sleep that she'd ever experienced in all her years as a spoiled rich heiress.

He in turn, let his fingers travel the length of her smooth back as he too drifted into a tranquil night's rest, something he'd never experienced before either as a musician.

Chelsea was gone when Kurt woke up the next morning.

There was a piece of hotel paper folded neatly on his stomach.

He rubbed grimy sleep out of his puffy eyes and sat up in bed. Then he picked up the paper and read the contents:

_Kurt,_

_I had a really great time last night. _

_In spite of how crappy my life's turned out recently, you were an interesting surprise. You're not an asshole; actually, you're a pretty decent guy. But my life is super complicated right now and I don't want to bring you down in the process. I got married way too young, and to a rich and abusive son of a bitch on top of everything. I have to fix the mess I've made and figure out where to go from here. I really hope you make it to LA in time to meet up with your band, you're really talented. _

_Chelsea. _

_PS: I hope everything works out for you. _

Kurt re-folded the note afterwards and pressed it to his lips, hoping he would still catch a trace of Chelsea's scent on the paper.

But there was nothing there, as if she had never existed.

"I hope everything works out for you too, Chelsea Brimmer." Kurt whispered to the surrounding walls and got out of bed.

He needed to get dressed, grab a quick bite to eat at 'Roy's', and then get back on the open road.

Like Chelsea, he still had a huge journey ahead of him and a long way to go.

***'***

_**A/N: **Kurt Martin is the musician father of Zack and Cody Martin. He appears in episodes throughout **The Suite Life of Zack and Cody **and a few episodes of** The Suite Life on Deck. **_

_Chelsea Brimmer is a friend of London Tipton and also a spoiled and rich heiress and socialite. She appears in several episodes of** The Suite Life of Zack and Cody **and one episode of** The Suite Life on Deck. **_

_A special thank you to Wikipedia for information on the town of Amboy and to 'Blur', an X-Box game that features 'Roy's Motel and Café'. I used Michael Johns' (former American Idol contestant) version of Dolly Parton's 'It's All Wrong, But It's Alright' as inspiration for Kurt's song at 'Roy's'. Best of luck to the other participants in this year's collection, please spread the word!_


	5. Tiger002

**Love Like A Candle **

by Tiger002

**'**

Hotels.

All of them the same.

Endless walls of overpriced art, decorated to be extravagant but subtle all at the same time. You'd think they'd do something to differentiate this one from all the others across the world. I drop my yoyo along the ground, bringing it back up in a split second, loving the feeling of control I have over it. I think about doing some fancy tricks or something, making my presence known in these halls of ordinary people.

Yeah, I know.

I'm just a kid with a hobby.

But one good enough at said hobby to make a pretty penny.

I walk up to my room, wishing that for once Fredrick would get me a room not a mile from the elevator, but what can you do? Swiping my key and walking through the door, my nostrils are greeted with the all too familiar smell of overly cleanliness. At least they brought my bags up to the right room this time, that's an improvement over most of the Tipton hotels at least.

I think about just going to bed now, with the sun starting to set, but decide it's not worth it. I'll need to get plenty of sleep for tomorrow, but it's still too early for that. Granted, I could wipe the floor with half those losers in my sleep, but it's best not to take any chances like that. Still, it seems like a good time to just relax, so I rummage through my suitcase, pulling out my pajamas and head to the shower, wanting to wash off the stench of the old people crammed onto the airplane. There should be a law against so many people so close to death so close together.

…

After washing myself, I head out of the bathroom and see that night had fallen, just as I thought it would. I hate Decembers, the way the sun always goes down so early, and it's so cold, no matter where you go. I mean, I'd have to go to Florida just to avoid the snow. But sadly, here I am, stuck in Chicago. We'll probably have a foot of snow by morning, not to mention the brutal winds.

Oh well, mop up the floor with the competition here, head home for Christmas. At least Southern California isn't too cold most of the time, even though it's 5 days before Christmas.

I get on the bed, and pull my laptop out, figuring I might as well watch a couple movies while I wait for it to get later.

…

I didn't notice what movie I was watching when I fell asleep, only that my laptop was dead upon waking up. The battery normally only lasts a couple hours, and considering the sky has grown pitch black, it's probably nine or something. I get out of bed, going to find the lights so I can see what time it is. I carefully step over my suitcase, knowing how bad of an idea it is to find it with my shin in the middle of the night. After a few seconds of stumbling through the darkness, I find the switch, and hit it, but to my surprise, no lights come on.

"The heck?" I say to myself, but I wonder if I should just go to bed and not worry about this. It might be for the best, I'll be woken up soon enough by the sunlight, and I really don't feel like complaining to maintenance at this hour of night about a faulty light switch. I groan, and head back to bed, but as I turn to see the window, I notice that there isn't a single light in the city.

It's one thing for a room to be out of light, but the entire city blanketed by darkness? I go to the window, to assure myself that it isn't just my imagination. But sure enough, there it is. I see some stars up above, something never seen anywhere near a city. They light up the horizon just enough to see the outline of the many towering, yet pitch black, skyscrapers.

Maybe I should go investigating…

Though it's probably nothing, or at the very least nothing that is my job to worry about. Still, I like my laptop, and if I can't charge it, there will be problems. I go back to my bed, reach down into my shoe, and pull out my cell phone. Yeah, an unorthodox place to put it, but its one place I'll make sure not to leave it behind. Unlocking the phone, I see its 12:21 and 12 seconds.

The seconds quickly change, but I notice something that seems to be too bizarre to just be a coincidence. The date is the same, December 21, 2012.

No way. This can't be anything more than a freaky coincidence. They were barbarians, they sacrificed people to gods that we've proven never existed, and for whatever reason some harebrained idiots decided that they could predict the end of the world.

Still, what if they were right, and this power outage is part of it?

I've got to stop watching so many movies.

I look to my bed, knowing that everything will work out for the best if I just lie down, go to sleep, and wake up when everything is normal again. Though with my body wide-awake, and thoughts racing at a thousand miles a minute, I know that will be a fruitless task. Besides, what's the harm in a little investigation?

Grabbing my coat, I use it to prop the door open, not wanting to risk being locked out if the card reader won't work. I glance over the room, and decide to shove my laptop under my bed, to make sure that any passing thieves don't decide to take it for themselves. I go over the room again, seeing if there is anything too valuable sitting out, but if someone really wants my clothes, I wouldn't miss them much when I'd be home soon anyway. I put my wallet, keys, and two favorite yo-yos in my pocket, and leave the room. As I round the corner, the darkness of the halls makes me wonder if I would have been smarter just to lie in bed, wait for this dark night to pass. But I've come this far, I might as well not waste this journey.

I can't help but hear the muffled voices through the walls, though they are so soft that I only rarely hear a word, and even when I do I'm not even sure what I hear. The floors seem shaky, like they could give way at any moment. I see shadows dancing in the distance, and when I go to run to them, the whole building seems to tilt, throwing me against the wall I can barely see.

I should get out of here. Being on the fifth floor at a time like this can't be a safe option, no way to get out of the building in a hurry, and worse, if this place does come down, I'd have 20 floors burying me.

I'm not letting that happen.

I look back, my room about 30 yards away from here now, and the odds are decent I won't be back there. The building begins rocking again, this time I find myself standing on the wall for a brief second, before falling back to the floor, landing on my shoulder.

My stuff can stay without me. Ain't no way I'm staying here another second longer than I have to.

I start running, trying to keep my balance as the building feels more and more unstable, and know that I can't look back now. I hate to leave all that behind, but I'd much rather lose some clothes and computer and stuff than my life through whatever this is.

What if it's worse outside?

I can't think about it. There has to be some way out of whatever this is. And right now, I know it's not in this hotel.

I finally reach the stairs, and this is the first time I see a sure sign of life. It seems, like me, many have chosen to get out of here. Do any of them have any idea what's going on here? Do they have hope, or are they filled with fear at what they don't know?

It doesn't seem like it, most of them are just walking in silence, I hear a few screams of women from a distance, and I briefly make out something asking for help for her daughter. As we continue to go down the stairs, the cries for help become more and more prevalent, but that doesn't matter right now. I have to get myself out of here, I have no idea what any of this is about, or how to help, so I try ignoring them, though the desperate pleas are wearing on my ears, and can only be ignored for so long.

Through the flashlights that some of the people were wise enough to bring, I can see that we've made it to the second floor, so escape is just out of sight.

Sadly, the light revealed something I wish I had never seen. Several people, mostly children, but a few adults as well. Their flesh seemed to have started to disintegrate, their faces were melting off, blood was seeping out from everywhere. It was as if they were zombies, some still alive, trying to get out of here. My mind wanted to run from them, an instinct brought on from watching too many zombie movies, but then I notice that they don't seem malicious; they're just trying to get out of here the same as everyone else. These people, or whatever they are, silently make their way with the crowd, not crying out in pain or demanding help, but just joining us all the same.

I wonder, can they think, do they feel pain? Or are they going only by instinct?

The others seem to notice these people as well, trying to get away, to not be touched by them. Perhaps, whatever this is, it's contagious, and it could spread. Though with the massive crowd making their way down the stairs, there is no way for us to escape, no matter the danger. A nightmarish thought crosses my mind, and I reach my hand up to my face, pulling it away as I close my eyes for a second. I breathe a sigh of relief when I see no blood there, telling me that I have not fallen victim to whatever this is.

Finally making my way to the exit on the second floor, I decide to get out here, not wanting to be surrounded by people should I need to move in a hurry. Granted, there aren't any exits here, but by now, I'm low enough to the ground to be able to go out through a window should the need arise. I'd just need to find some sheets to use as a makeshift parachute or toss a mattress out a window to land on, and I'd be fine.

I make my way through the second floor, wishing that I had the light of the flashlights guiding me still, but being alone is probably be safer. Those others would just get in the way, and if I'm going to get through this, I'll have to do it myself. It's not like that hasn't worked for me in the past. Others just slow me down, and no matter what promises are made or words cross our lips, no relationships ever last long.

As I make my way through the hallway, my eyes start adjusting to the darkness once again. I try to find an open door so I can escape this hotel, when the whole place begins shaking again, throwing me against the wall. I try getting up, but the place is still shaking too much, causing me to fall to the ground, unable to catch myself, hitting my face on the fancy carpet. I yelp in pain, as I try getting to my knees, deciding that I shouldn't try walking until the floor stays in one place. I move my hand up to my face, feeling a liquid substance on it, and sure enough, my nose is bleeding.

Great, just what I need. I can only hope it will stop soon, and wait for this horrendous shaking to stop. I'm half afraid that the hotel is going to fall over, or collapse, or something. That, or a nearby building will fall into it. There are probably a million reasons to get out of here now, but this stupid shaking is making it so I can't even walk.

After a couple minutes of waiting for the shaking to pass, it finally does, and I'm able to get up, looking for a door that would lead to my exit. But as I do so, I heard the creaking, and a still small voice calls out. It's unlike those of the many guests, running through chaos, rushing out in their ignorance of the reality around them.

"Is someone there?" it asks, a girl, and I try to find her through the obscuring darkness.

"Who said that?" I ask.

"I'm right here," she answers, and I make my way to her voice, finding that it came from one of the rooms. I jump in as the floor begins shaking again, and she shuts the door behind me, though I'm not sure it's any safer in here.

"Thank you." At the very least, she's gotten me close enough to an escape; the window at the far end of the room lets a miniscule amount of light into the room, enough to see that she is no older than me. I get up, and take in the setting, the room is a little bit smaller than mine, a single bed, but I notice a bulge in it, something that I want to pretend is just some luggage or clothes, or something, but the shape tells me otherwise.

"That was my boyfriend," she says, her voice soft, hardly able to bring the words across, and I move away from that side of the room. "It got to him almost as soon as the lights went out, he was dead in only a few minutes."

"How long have they been out?" I ask, deciding that now is as good of a time as any to start getting some answers. I don't want to stay here any longer than I have to, especially if whatever he had could spread to me, but this girl might know something.

"According to my watch, about 3 hours, but it feels like it's been forever."

So it went out a couple hours after I fell asleep. "We need to get out of here," I say, making my way to the window, and it looks like we're about ten feet off the ground. It should be safe enough.

"I was wanting thinking the same thing, but it seemed so crowded by the stairs. And I get claustrophobic, and with all those people, there could be others like him, and then-"

"That's why we're not using the stars," I say as I begin fiddling with the window latch, trying to get this thing open.

"You sure this is a good idea?"

"Better than staying here at least." Finally, I get the window open, and with a couple shots of my elbow, I make a hole in the screen. I then go to work tearing the screen out, hoping to get out of here without another quake, or whatever that was hitting again. "You ready?" I ask, taking a step back.

She nods as she walks up beside me, and I can't help but feeling she's a bit nervous at jumping out a window. Can't say it's something I've done before, but I've always thought it sounded fun. I just wish that I was doing it under better circumstances.

"Oh, before we go!" she exclaims, causing me to role my eyes, the fact that we're waiting not making any sense to me.

"Hillary," she says, holding out her hand.

"Johan," I say shaking it. Normally I'd wait for her to realize who she was talking to, but it seems like lately no one knows of my fame, and right now, I don't have time to explain. "Now let's go."

I'm not quite sure when I became worried with more than getting myself out of here, but I'd feel bad just leaving her here and the odds are good she'd end up following me anyway. Besides, there is strength in numbers for whatever awaits us out there. Not that I'm agreeing to protect her or anything, my goal is to just get out of this hellhole. And if I happen to help someone else escape while doing so, then that's not a bad thing.

Pushing my legs out the window first, I jump down, the impact throwing me off my feet as I hit the ground. I get back to my feet quickly, and signal her to follow me. Despite the fact that she's a bit bigger than I am, I stand ready to catch her and break her fall.

"I'm scared, what if I hurt myself, or fall on something, and the human body can only take so much force-"

"Trust me, I got you," I say cutting her off, and up above me I can see her nod slightly, pushing her legs off over the edge. And with the moonlight shining against the hotel, I see the wind blowing in her hair, showing how beautiful she is.

She hops down, and I wrap my arms around her waist, slowing her decent, and I stop thinking about her looks. Besides, with the noise of the masses not too far away, we need to get going. There should be a safe place not too far from here, especially in a city this big, but we'd be best to avoid big crowds.

"Now what?"

I gaze out through the night, looking for an opening, for any indication of what awaits us out here. But with so little that we know any choice could be the wrong one.

"Get away from the hotel" I say, hoping that I choose the right path and begin running. I hear her footsteps behind me, as we make our way behind the hotel, away from the crowds, and disappear into the night.

I feel the cold winter's wind against my skin, nearly forgetting in all the chaos how cold it was out here, and I regret leaving my coat back at the hotel, leaving me in only a t-shirt and jeans. Shivers erupt along my body, and I know that this could be a long night, especially when I won't have the chance to keep running to keep my body warm.

"I don't live far from here, about ten miles if you want to head for there."

"Lead the way," I say, not wanting to be stuck out here any longer than necessary in the cold, but if we move fast, hopefully it won't be too bad.

She looks around the streets, trying to find the right path, or so I would assume, and begins walking briskly, obviously seeing how critical it is to move fast as well. She's wearing a sweatshirt and what appear to be some thick jeans so she isn't as exposed to the cold as I am. However, we have to be careful not to exhaust ourselves too soon. I soon catch up to her, the glow of the stars giving light to the dark alleys she runs through. I have to wonder how many times she's taken this path, how she seems to know it so well. What secrets must she keep, that would lead her to memorize these obscure roads so well.

"You able to keep up?"

"Yeah," I say with a nod as we round yet another corner, her deft turns nearly throwing me off. "You seem like you know this place really well."

"Let's just say that a while back, hiding in the dark obscurities of the city was the safest course of action for me. The more twists and turns, the easier to lose those who were me."

My fist clenches up at the thought of people hurting her. From the way her voice quieted as she said that, I know there are secrets she wants to keep. I want to ask her, slow down, but I can already feel my fingers starting to go numb, and know that we have to keep going. We can't waste any time just talking. Maybe once we get to her house, I can ask her, but not now.

"We're almost halfway there," she says after we've traveled in silence for quite some time, and from the way my legs are starting to tense up, I can believe we've put several miles behind us She looks back at me, as if to ask me if I want to take a break but despite the fact that I probably need to, I push my legs to go harder, even though that causes pain to shoot through them. Between the cold and the exhaustion, I'm ready to collapse, but can't. If I sit down now, I may never get up again.

"So why would you stay at a hotel when you live so close?" I ask, wanting to do something to keep my mind off the chilling air consuming my body.

"Tonight was the night of our school's winter dance. Kevin wanted for us to go to a hotel to properly celebrate, since we had been going out for so long."

I can only guess that Kevin was the person buried beneath the covers of the bed, the one who I dared not to see.

"I'm so sorry."

"Don't be. Is it bad that I wasn't sad that he died?"

I don't say anything, not sure how to respond to something like that.

"A complete douche, I just never had the courage to dump him in the two months we had been dating."

Two months, that hardly seems like a long time to me. Though I guess it's better than anything I've been capable of. It's always been short-term relationships; maybe a few weeks if I stay in one place for long, heck, I even had a girlfriend for about a month back at home. But with me being gone so often, that could never last long. The curses of having such a gift. And the thing is, they always said it was my fault that we broke up, that I couldn't commit to them enough. They just had no idea how hard it was, and got jealous of any girl I talked to.

Maybe I wasn't always innocent.

But that's in the past, and right now, none of that matters. All we need to do is to get out of this cold as soon as possible.

With my eyes adjusting to the darkness of the night, and ears tuned to the sound of silence, only the sound of tennis shoes colliding against the pavement pounding against the ears, I am nearly thrown off my feet by a sonic boom tearing through the sky. I place my hand against a building beside me to steady myself.

"What was that?" she asks, as we stop, taking in the strange sound. We glance up at the sky, and then I see it, among the stars, a ball of red.

My first thought is that it could be the sun, finally coming to give us relief from such a night, but then I see the one splotch of red quickly multiplying; what once was 1 becoming 3, and then 10, and then a countless multitude.

We stop and stare for a moment, taking in the site, the darkness of the night obliterated by the light of a thousand suns. Though these aren't quite suns, these are red, smaller, but they are brighter than the brightest summer's day I have ever seen.

These balls of fire do not stay suspended in the sky for long. No, instead they slowly descend downward, to the city itself.

I hear the first one explode probably a mile away, though from the deafening sound of the impact, I have no idea if my guess is anywhere near correct. Through the streets, I see the smoke rising, the heat touching me even from here. Gazing up, I notice that the other balls of fire descending to the earth, most going far away, but some close enough to worry me greatly.

"Do you think your house will be safe?"

"It's better than being out here."

She's probably right, and right now, I need something to keep me going, instead of being in awe of the power of these, as another one explodes behind us.

Looking back, I see one more of them strike the ground, the ashes already starting to rise, and the nearby buildings crumbling beneath the impact. My mind is brought back to the terrorist attacks nearly 12 years ago the way the buildings fell away to nothing, and as skyscrapers fall in the distance, I now know the terror those poor souls faced that day.

The sky is still filled with the balls of fire, which as they pound into the city, I notice are rock beneath the fire, meteors falling from the sky. I want to ponder where they came from, but don't, seeing no point in asking. The only logical course of action is to get away from it, find some place that could keep us safe. Even if there is no escape from the destruction, we have to try. I for one don't plan on standing out here waiting to die.

Maybe I will die, maybe my fate is unavoidable.

But I'd rather believe in a fate I can control, that whatever comes my way it isn't unstoppable.

No matter how out of the world it seems.

"One's heading toward us," I say, feeling the heat radiating from it already, driving away the chills I felt earlier.

"We have to move," she says, grabbing my hand and the two of us duck behind an alley, hoping that the buildings surrounding us will protect us. Though with the destruction the meteors have already brought, I wonder if the buildings will offer any protection.

"Get down," I say, ducking to the ground, pulling her beneath me without thinking. For a second, I consider the fact that I want to protect myself, but I have no time to question my choice, as the sound of an airplane engine exploding rockets through the air. I try covering my ears, but it's too late, the sound already driving into my head. The heat flows all around us, and I can feel it eating at my skin, soon followed by an onslaught of debris. Windows shatter all around us, and the sounds of glass hitting the street make me cringe, thinking that instead of the pavement that could be my skin. I shiver at the thought, glass burrowing into my skin too close to becoming a reality.

Once more, silence falls upon the city, and I dare to open my eyes, not noticing that I had closed them.

"Are you okay?" she asks, and I slowly climb off of her, seeing if I feel any pain, or notice any blood. My arm, which was facing the street, appears to be burned, the cool air stinging it. Several drops of blood seep through the scorched skin, but through either adrenaline or numbness, the pain isn't enough to keep me from getting back up.

"Yeah, for the most part anyway. That was way too close for comfort, let's get to your home before things get worse."

She nods, but as she gets up, she stumbles back to the ground and I see it, a shard of glass sticking out of her jeans.

I close my eyes, knowing that I failed to protect her. But maybe this is for the best, I wasn't hurt.

But is that anyway to think, when she's in pain?

I don't know, maybe it is, I should be making sure I get through this before some girl I just met.

I bend down, trying to see how bad the damage is. I think back to my time dating Jackie, maybe those two weeks weren't a total loss since I learned more about the human body and first aid than I cared about. The blood loss doesn't seem too bad, but we have to wrap it soon, to make sure she doesn't bleed out. But with what? I need to get the glass out first though, so I carefully grip it.

"This will hurt," I say, and she cringes, obviously in quite an amount of pain already. I guess a little bit more can't hurt too much.

I yank the glass out, and she screams, in tune with another metiour slamming into the earth quite a distance from here. She grips her leg, and I see the blood slowly leaking out her fingers. "Can I use your sweater to wrap it?"

She nods and takes off the thing keeping her warm through this cold winter's night, but this could be a choice between staying warm and staying alive, and she has the same priorities as me.

I carefully tie it up, wishing I had something more to hold it in place, or something smaller to use.

Then I think of it.

I take one of my yoyos out of my pocket, and unroll it. I snap the string off, letting the plastic fall to the ground, and I carefully weave the string around the sweater, making sure it will stick to the wound, but still wrapping it up enough so she can still walk.

"Thank you," she says, and then gets back to her feet, though stumbling some as she does so.

"It shouldn't be much farther."

That means she could make it. Or will make it. Either or.

"Is there someone there?" a voice calls out, a guy, though I can't tell his age, but at this point, I don't really care.

"Yes, we're back here!" I yell, hoping that it's not someone I should avoid alerting, but thoughts of caution blow by me at the thought of someone who could help.

"Oh thank God," he says as he quickly rounds the corner, revealing himself to be a man probably in his thirties with short black hair, and a suit covered by a jacket.

"Is there anything you could do to help?" I ask, pointing to her leg, and he nods in understanding.

"Of course, I am the Pastor Green of the First Baptist Church just down the road. Daniel and Justin have set up a clinic in our sanctuary to treat those wounded by this disaster."

I don't pick up on all that he says, but I hear enough to know that he can help. "Thank you."

He lets Hillary wrap her arm around his shoulder and helps her down the road and I follow them, seeing that most of the destruction seems to have passed. There are still several meteors that seem to be suspended in the sky, but once more I can see the starts that fill the heavens.

Perhaps we can get out of this, get to safety. Maybe this isn't the end of the world after all, the worst might have already passed, and all we need to do is recover from it. Judging by the ashes rising through the city, that won't be an easy process, and I'm sure thousands must have died already. But we made it, mostly unharmed.

Pastor Green leads us down the street, and I can hear the voices of despair in the distance. Several dogs are barking, kids are crying, and there are other sounds, which are dwarfed by the destruction.

"What do you think's going to happen to all these people?" Hillary asks.

"That is all in the hands of God. We can only be his servants in this time of need."

To be so assured in a faith that they can't see, that's something that's always perplexed me. Are they wiser for taking that leap of faith, or fools to look away from the world in front of them? Perhaps it doesn't matter. With so much of the city in ruins now, it might be for the best that people like him are going out and trying to help. Even if his faith is misplaced, some others will benefit from it.

"Here we are, a couple of our doctors have set up a treatment center in the sanctuary." The giant stained glass doors open revealing a place I'd imagine is typically filled with soft, reverent music, a well-organized congregation gathered together to pray.

Though tonight, it's anything but. There are those dressed up like Pastor Green, some who have taken a role of leadership, but mostly it seems that street wise kids have taken charge, those the church would condemn as unclean welcomed in, ushered around with the highest respect. Generators have been set up providing the first artificial light I have seen in hours, and I notice blood on the angel statues sitting atop the stage where wounded have been laid.

"I found two more," the pastor says to a guy wondering back and forth, some gloves on his hands revealing that he's a doctor, or at the very least, acting as one during this tragedy.

"How badly are they hurt?"

"She had some glass slice into her leg, and probably needs stiches, and he has a few burns."

"I'll take them to Miles then, Jeremiah is overwhelmed with the amount of life threatening injuries, and I'm still trying to treat those with the Scorching, but haven't made any progress. With what we have now, it's just not possible to save them."

I see the defeated look across his face, eyes tired from exhaustion and hopelessness. The Scorching, could that be whatever the weird skin condition is that killed Kevin? Hillary never told me much about her boyfriend's death, just that it got to him quick, and from those others I saw, there is no reason to doubt that it was confined to just the hotel.

"Do what you can Daniel," the Paster says, trying to alleviate the stress consuming Daniel. "That's all we can ask of you.

Pastor Green disappeared behind some other guys he needed to talk to and I followed Hillary and Daniel into what they've turned into a clinic. I can't help but wonder where they got these supplies, perhaps some of the church members work at a hospital and were able to bring some supplies with them, but upon looking closer, I see that many things could have been rummaged from around the church, towels used to soak up the blood, bottled water brought out in droves to wash the dirty supplies.

"Miles, can you take care of these two?" Daniel asks. "Her leg was cut pretty badly with glass, and he needs something for his burns."

He nods as Daniel skirts away, the rush obviously too much for them to spend much time just talking to each other when there are people dying all throughout the city.

"Sit up here so I can look at your leg," he says and she does, before removing the sweater that had thus far stopped some of the bleeding, and I can't seem to look away. My eyes are locked on the wound causing me to see the blood continuing to flow out. It isn't much, but far more than there probably should be. He then pulls out a knife and cuts away the lower part of her jeans so he can see the wound. "Good, the pressure on the slash helped prevent too much blood loss. I'm going to numb the area around the scratch, but you might still feel some pain, understood?"

She nods and reaches for my hand as Miles prepares the needle. I let her grab onto it. "You'll be okay," I say. I feel her hand wrap squeeze tighter as the needle goes into her skin. She shivers and grits her teeth, and I feel the pain travel through her hands into mine. I wrap my arm around her, hoping that my presence can somehow alleviate the discomfort.

"Okay, I'll try to get this done quick," Miles says as he prepares the needle and thread.

"Just look at me," I say, not wanting her to see what's about to happen to her leg. The mere sight of the needle going through one's skin is enough to make the pain a thousand times worse. Even so, she grips my hand harder, and I keep my eye on the needle, each stich it makes sending shivers up Hillary's body. I see tears flowing down her cheeks, her eyes closing harder, obviously wanting to cry out in pain, but she knows now is not the time. It will hurt; it's the only way, and there are others to treat so they can't waste all the Novocain on her.

"That should do it," Miles says, placing a bandage over the wound and taping it down. "You'll be in pain for a while, but I'll see if we have any medicine to help with that.

"Thank you," she says, getting down her leg still weak, but that's to be expected with it being numb. She takes a seat in one of the pews that had not been removed from the sanctuary.

"My brother said your arm was burnt?" he asks me and I nod, walking over, allowing him to examine it. "Much pain?"

It hurts, stinging pretty badly, but I've gotten used to that from walking here. I don't think there is any permanent damage, but that could be hiding further beneath. "Bearable."

"Let me disinfect it then."

I don't know what the solution is that he's wetting the white towel with, but as soon as it makes contact with my burnt skin, I nearly jolt my arm away, but don't. The burning sensation is ten times worse than it's even been but I grit my teeth, ignoring my body's command to get away from the pain.

"Sorry, I figured it might be best to not warn you."

"As long as it helps."

"You're stronger than a lot of the others I've treated here."

"Pain tells you when something is wrong, but why complain when it's actually good for you?" I say with a shake of my head. "I'm just glad it wasn't worse."

"God was protecting you," he says with what I'm sure is supposed to be a comforting tone, but I don't see it.

"No, that was just luck. If God really was protecting me, then what about those who didn't survive long enough to get here?" I don't mean to lash out at him, I should be thanking him for helping me, but can he really see God through all this? Through all the devastation and destruction, what type of god is that? One who allows disaster to fall, one which kills good men who were in the prime of my life?

"It's not always so simple," Miles replies as he continues to clean my wound. The initial stinging sensation has since waned, but it's still there, constantly telling me to yank my arm away, but I refuse, knowing that it would be pointless. It's best to just get this over with as soon as I can.

"How can you be so calm through this? Aren't you scared?"

"We shouldn't fear the world that can destroy the body, but only fear God who can destroy the soul. As the proverbs state, 'The Fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.'"

I find it pretty hard to fear something I've never seen.

I was scared of those meteors. I was scared of the cold. I was scared of being stuck in that hotel while it could collapse at any moment. Those I could touch and feel, and knew to fear.

I don't tell him that though. Now isn't the time to get into a religious debate. He had better uses of his time than arguing with an Atheist like me, and I'm too tired to try to convince him that he's wrong. What good would it serve anyway? If his faith is what's making him help people, then that's all for the best.

He places a bandage over my burn, and like the one over Hillary's leg, tapes it up. "That should keep the air off it, and hopefully by morning it will blister over and you shouldn't be in much pain."

"Thank you."

"We've converted the storage area below the sanctuary into a place for our guests to stay, and you are more than welcome."

I look to Hillary, and while our original plan was to make it to her house, this is probably the safest choice. We'd be stupid to go back in the cold with us in this condition. Maybe tomorrow we could make it the rest of the way, but for now we need to rest. She nods, and I know that we feel the same.

"Good, allow me to lead the way." He tosses his gloves in the trash and the two of us follow him up to the stage, and I take in the sights of dozens of wounded being treated, more rushing in, and a part of me wants to say a prayer as I walk beneath a massive cross. But I brush that thought off to the side as we're led to stairs. The pathway is hardly lit, a few candles burning in the basement, but hardly anything to see.

I just put one step in front of the other, and as we venture further down, I see there are probably 20 people already here. Cots made out of blankets acquired from who knows where and anything else they could find adorned the floor.

"I'm sorry it isn't much, but there should still be a few spots left down here."

"It's more than enough," Hillary says and Miles heads back upstairs, more people needing his medical knowledge. We make our way to a corner, and I get under the blankets. Despite the fact that it's not as cold as outside there is still a chill in the air.

"Would you mind if I join you? We could keep each other warm."

I open the blanket up, and she lies down beside me, the warm of her skin taking away some of the cold. I look over her body, see the tired soul who has endured so much, and I see a few tears along her face. It's not surprising; I haven't lost anything, just some possessions which can easily be replaced. But her boyfriend is dead, and if she's from here, there is no telling if her family is still alive.

"We're going to get through this," I say, wrapping my arm around her, and she turns to face me, our bodies growing closer.

"I'm scared, what if this is only the beginning, what if things get worse, or you know that-"

"Don't worry about it. I'll be here."

I'm not sure why her hesitation is worrying me so much. Does she reflect the fears I really have? Or is there something else.

"Really?" she asks, and she nudges close to me, our bodies already touching and I feel the warmth radiate off of her.

We stare at each other's eyes for a moment, and I feel myself drawn in, like flying across oceans at light speed, to a destination so beautiful, so marvelous, but one which words could never describe. I don't even notice my face inching closer to hers. She begins to open her mouth, to ask another question, but she is stopped by my lips pressing ever so gently against hers.

I see what I'm doing though, driven only by instinct and lust, and pull away. This is just all getting to me; that's it. I don't love her, I don't even care about her that much. She's just a good looking body, a kind soul, one that I want to protect…

Maybe there is some love there…

No. We just met today. I've dated others, kissed others, she's no different. I've never loved them, never been willing to truly put them above myself.

"Why'd you stop?"

"I was caught up in the moment, I'm sorry."

"And what's wrong with that?"

She wraps her arms around the back of my neck, and before my body can resist or my mind can come up with a reason why I shouldn't, I kiss her again, pulling her so close our clothes are the only thing separating us. Our lips dance with each other, and I'm drawn into her, and as the darkness of a night is banished by the sunrise of her eyes, all the fears and pain that have filled me this day disappear in a sense of ecstasy.

Is this love or lust?

Does it matter?

I can't answer these, but I feel right with Hillary beside me, our bodies touching, our lips locking, and my hands starting to move lower. Some would say now is the time to proclaim my love for her, to make promises out of passion that will just fade away the next day.

But why?

What would they mean should we be separated?

Instead we just kiss, lost in each other's embrace, warmth flowing across our bodies, even as I hear the wind blowing outside, thunder shaking the night that seems so far away. Despite it all, our love burns brightly. The rain pours, and I see a flash of lightning out of a window that I had not noticed before.

Her head falls and I notice the smile across her face as she leans against the pillow, and with soft breaths, I know she needs her sleep. I stare out the window, watching the storm pound against it, and I can only hope this holy building will keep us safe for the night. Though I don't worry about it for long, as I too fall asleep.

…

Dawn comes.

I don't know how long I slept, this room is only lit by the window so it's too dark to see a clock should one even be here. There are some others still, some stirring, some sleeping.

"Hillary," I say, shaking the girl who hadn't made a move since I woke up. I almost hate to wake her, but we should probably do what traveling we can during the day where it won't be as cold. It was nice to find refuge here through the night, but I want to leave here as soon as I can.

She doesn't respond at first, and I think about going back to sleep. I'm awake though, and sleeping away the day won't be productive. "Wake up," I say, a little bit louder this time, but hopefully not enough to wake any of the others who need their rest.

But once more she doesn't move.

Her chest isn't moving either.

The panic begins to sink in.

"Hillary!" I begin shaking her hard now, needing to wake her out of her stupor, but it doesn't do any good. I move my hand to her neck, waiting to feel the pulse, but upon waiting for at least ten seconds, and moving my hand, hoping that I was just looking at the wrong place, there was nothing.

And through the dark room, with my eyes finally adjusting, I see a horror that I can't describe. The skin on her face has decayed, blood seeping out, her flesh exposed, pieces of bone sticking out. I'm sure she could have only been dead for a few hours, but it's as if she's been lying there for a month or more.

I bolt up, tripping over someone lying not far from me, and fall to the ground. He says something, but I don't hear him, I just get back to my feet and run, tears splashing against the ground behind me.

When did I start crying?

I don't care though, I just keep going, trying not to hit anyone or anything else, but if I do, I don't care.

This isn't right.

She shouldn't be dead.

Why her? Why not me?

Suddenly the walls of the church seem too confining, like they are walls of a morgue, only fit for keeping the dead within, and this is the farthest place from where I want to be right now.

I bolt up the stairs, finally finding them, but as I exit into the sanctuary, I see the Christians huddled in a group, a song rising from them, a song that fills me with nausea.

'_From the dawn of eternity until today  
>Your power and majesty causes us to praise<br>So tonight we lift our cry  
>Do not flee from our sights<br>Now more than ever, we need your strength.'_

What is there to praise? What God would you want to follow at a time like this? How is it that Christians can so cling to a good and loving God with tragedy strikes like this? If anything, they should be cursing God!

'_As the fears surround and pull us down  
>As the life we knew fades away<br>As the pain becomes so much  
>Come Lord Jesus and save us today.'<em>

Do they really believe that? That singing some pretty songs and saying a simple prayer will save them, or this world? Will they die believing this? And what about those who it's too late to save? But no, instead of accepting that there might just not be a god to set things right that they will die like so many others.

'_You promised to be with us till the end  
>A vow only your strength can defend.<br>From wherever the broken come from  
>All that holds us is your love.<br>And now more than ever, we need your hope'_

Love, hope, pretty concepts. But I felt love, I had hope, but like a candle, that love was snuffed out. Am I one of the broken? Probably, I'm just a sinner like all those who don't buy into their religious talk. But what love am I held by? What strength of God is protecting me?

'_As the fears surround and pull us down  
>As the life we knew fades away<br>As the pain becomes so much  
>Come Lord Jesus and save us today.'<em>

As I hear the chorus once again, I make my way to the exit, avoiding their glances that would want to hold me here or pray for me, or whatever. Whatever salvation they're praying for, the destruction I see out the doors shows it won't happen any time soon.

'_God of all creation we lift up your praise.  
>Christ the saving king, we cry out to you.<br>Holy Spirit, great encourager, we plead for your strength.  
>And now more than ever, we need your love'<em>

Leaving the church, the sounds of music beside me, I can truly take it the horrors that have befallen this great city. Buildings lay in ruin, the chilled winter's air blows across my body, and the smoke is still rising from the meteors that struck last night. The stench of death stings my nostrils, but I walk through the chaos anyway. I see bodies lying along the ground and wonder if I too will join them in falling to this disaster.

After putting about a quarter mile distance between myself and the church, I look back and see the people moving out once again. What can they do at a time like this? Maybe offer some comfort, some rudimentary first aid, but even driven by faith, they can only do so much. Their hope may give some encouragement, their love may comfort some who were hurt by this, but that's all.

I look away once more and continue on my way, knowing that looking back would be pointless.

…

**A/N: **_The characters were __Johan Yo from **Broken Yo-Yo** and Hilary from **Family Thais**_

_I must say, this story was a lot of fun to write, and also a challenge for me. Since I was given such minor characters, I felt it would be best to instead of writing a story just about them, I should write them into a greater story. Writing in first person is something I have trouble doing for more than a short story, but I think it turned out really well here. I was limited in what I could show with Hillary, and might not have written her as in characters as I could have, but given what little we know about her, and this disaster, I think I made it work. I'd like to show more with her, just writing, I saw some bits and pieces in her past that I think could draw her out more, but sadly, that wasn't for this story._

_The scene at the church was probably the most unique for me to write, since it's the first time I've written a story with religious themes from an Atheistic perspective. However, I think it does justice to the story, to show a disaster from the eyes of someone who runs from faith. And the song lyrics at the end were actually written by me, mainly for this story._

_Thank you to WoundedHearts and Wyntirsno for betaing and early version of this. I hope you enjoyed my twist on romance, and please review. _

*'*'*'*'*'*'*'*'*'*'*'*'*'*'*'*'*'*'*'*'*'*


	6. SilverTurtle

**TO WIN THE QUEEN**

by SilverTurtle

*****'*****

Sasha Matryoshka glares fiercely at the pieces on her board, lifting them up and slamming them down harshly as she plays a match against herself. Her mind working in circles, fury building, she thinks of the moments that brought her here. Defeated, disgraced, disgusted. If those stupid, ugly, heavy, shoes hadn't hit her at a pivotal moment in the match she would be the Junior World Chess Champion right now. Instead, she is heading home a disappointment to her coach, her family, and her country. Even if it wasn't her fault, even if those hideous shoes hadn't struck her, even if she could have beaten that substitute blindfolded and with her hands tied, the fact is that she lost. And now she must marinate in her humiliation, seeing the arrogant boy who had defeated her everywhere she goes, until the cruise ship reaches a port and she can find a flight to home.

She thumps a piece down on the board and picks up another to continue. She uses her black rook to fling the white knight off the board, not caring where it lands.

"Ouch!"

Sasha looks up from the board at the startled cry. She sees a girl with long brown hair cupping a hand over her eye while studying the white knight that Sasha realizes she'd accidentally hit her with. The girl looks up and around and finally her eyes land on Sasha's mortified ones and she cautiously makes her way over, the hand holding the knight feeling along the backs of chairs to keep her steady, her depth perception obviously effected by using only one eye.

"I think you dropped something," the girl carefully places the piece on the table beside the other discarded ones.

Sasha opens her mouth to apologize and is stopped when the girl leans over and moves a white piece. "Checkmate!" she chirps.

Sasha looks confusedly down at her board, certain that she'd have needed at least four more moves before putting one side or the other in checkmate, and sees that the girl has somehow cornered her black king with a white bishop and her king, surrounded by pawns, has nowhere to run. She must not have been paying close enough attention, letting her frustration get the better of her.

That would stop.

Now.

She would not allow her skills to be overrun by her emotions again. That is simply unacceptable. And entirely unprofessional.

"You look like you could use another player," the girl says, finally pulling her left hand down from her eye. There's an angry looking red mark just below her eyebrow already purpling a little with a fresh bruise and Sasha winces in sympathy, an apology once again on the tip of her tongue. "I haven't played in a long time. Would you mind?" the girl asks, tipping her hand towards the open chair across the table.

Sasha leans back and nods, already moving her pieces back into starting position. "I am Sasha, the-"

"The Russian Junior Chess Champion, I know. I saw the match yesterday. You were robbed," the girl is moving her own pieces, black, back to her side of the board. When she finishes setting up her side she looks up and offers her hand over the table and board, "I'm Addison."

Sasha takes Addison's hand with her own and shakes firmly. "I apologize." she says while looking directly into Addison's eyes.

Addison tips her head looking confused and Sasha gestures faintly to her own head with her free hand.

"Oh!" Addison giggles, "That's all right. At least it wasn't a ping pong ball."

Before Sasha even thinks to ask about how a ping pong ball could be worse than a solid wooden chess piece, Addison has reclaimed her hand from the shake and motions to the board, "Smoke before fire?"

"Hm," Sasha agrees and begins the match.

Twelve moves later and Addison is again chirping "Checkmate!" and clapping her hands.

Sasha's mouth drops open. She leans forward to study the board, totally unable to comprehend how quickly she's been defeated. "How did you do that?" she demands.

Addison giggles again, "It was easy. See, when I moved this piece and you countered with that one you left your king totally exposed."

"This cannot be right," Sasha thinks through all of their moves in reverse, "I did not even see it coming! We will play again." It must have been a fluke. An average girl should never have been able to beat a champion.

Sasha puts her pieces right again and resolves to pay closer attention.

Addison shrugs with a smile and returns her own pieces to the start. The game begins again.

This time it only takes ten moves before Addison is clapping over her victory.

"Impossible!" Sasha blurts.

"No, see," Addison points to the board, "you moved here to counter this thrust. You were thinking too immediately. If you'd hung back there wouldn't have been this opening and I'd have had to wait at least two more turns before I could put you in check."

Sasha stares up at Addison, completely stunned. Not a fluke. "I have never been beaten so easily. It should not be possible. Only a world caliber player should be able to defeat a champion. I know all of the players in our age group with such skill, you are not one of them."

"Well," Addison shifts in her seat, her cheeks pinking, "not anymore, I'm not."

Sasha narrows her eyes at her companion, her mind racing trying to think of all the female chess players she'd heard about while growing up. There had been a handful of talented girls she'd been told about while training, but most had dropped out with an announcement that they were taking up other pursuits and none of them had this level of skill. There was only one, to Sasha's memory, who possessed such skill. She'd gone by the handle of Titania because, while she'd been competing as a youth, she'd always come to her matches wearing a fairy t-shirt and costume wings. But she'd completely disappeared from the chess world years ago without even an announcement. She'd just gone. But this couldn't be her. Why would she be here, of all places? Still, the possibility that Sasha is sitting in front of one of the very best chess players in the world is too great an opportunity and too exciting to leave without confirmation. So, hesitantly, Sasha leans forward and softly asks, "Titania?"

Addison's eyes widen and her face goes red all over, her new bruise flushing a little darker than the rest. "Oh goodness," she chuckles awkwardly, "I haven't been called that since I stopped playing chess competitively."

"So you are she? You are Titania?" Sasha eagerly presses.

Addison scrunches her nose up, but nods.

Sasha nearly bounces in her seat but restrains herself to a wide smile. She puts both her hands on the table and says, "You must teach me."

"I don't know," Addison hedges, "I don't think I'd make a very good teacher. I mean, I play but I'm no good at explaining things. And I have trouble keeping focus for too long. It's why I stopped playing chess, everyone else just moved too slow. Well, that and I wanted to try other things because I'd seen some kids playing ping pong at one of the tournaments and that looked like fun so I tried it and then there were the balls everywhere and they freaked me out because how can they move so fast and make that whistling noise and the crack of the paddles was like lightning and once a kid I was playing against let his paddle go and it whacked me right in the face and I fell onto a table and it was full of ping pong balls and one got in my mouth and I nearly choked so I stopped playing that too but then I didn't want to go back to chess because I'd been gone for so long and it was kind of nice not having people keep telling me I must have cheated because otherwise how else would I have won when I was so young and a dumb girl too and that just hurt my feelings so-"

"Please," Sasha breaks in before Addison could add to her thought. She isn't certain Addison had taken a single breath that whole time. "Please? Just a few more games. You were the most amazing kid in our age group. I heard my coach saying you could be the next Bobby Fischer. You must teach me some of your tricks."

Addison purses her lips and crosses her arms, "I don't have any tricks. I just look at the board and know what my opponent is going to do. People are predictable. It's all patterns and strategy."

"Then teach me strategy, show me the patterns, help me to be a better player," Sasha had moved herself to a chair closer to Addison and put her hand on the other girl's forearm. "Please. I have wanted to play the legendary Titania since I first heard about her...about you. You were the first girl I'd ever heard of who could be competition for me."

"You have played me. Twice now." Addison reminds her, but her posture had relaxed a little, her arms uncrossing and one hand playing with the fingers of Sasha's hand still on her arm.

"Teach me," Sasha implores again.

Addison sighs, "Fine. But you have to make it worth my while."

Sasha grins in triumph, "Of course. Anything. Whatever you want."

Addison leans forward, eyes locking with Sasha's, until she is very much inside Sasha's personal space. "Candy," she says, "Lots and lots of candy."

Surprised, Sasha nods and quickly composes a text message to her coach who shows up in the midst of the girls' eighth match with a cartload of sugary treats.

Addison immediately shoves her hand into the pile and munches on whatever she happens to pull out, her eyes never leaving the board, and talking chess around the mouthfuls of candy to her eager pupil.

***'***

Days later, when the candy supply is finally exhausted, Sasha flops back onto her bed feeling like she'd learned all there was to know about playing chess and reading other players.

They'd relocated to her cabin shortly after her coach had handed over the candy for privacy and to be able to rest when necessary piled together on the bed. Chess hadn't been all they'd talked about, their conversation had segued naturally into several other topics, and Sasha feels like she's never been closer to another person in her life.

She looks over to Addison, who is splayed out beside her with her eyes closed, and smiles. "One more match?" she asks, "To see if I have learned all I should have before we make dock?"

Addison grins as she opens her eyes and turns to look at her companion, "You think you're ready?"

Sasha laughs as she shakes her head, "I think you will beat me. But I will not submit without a fight."

"Good," Addison says with a full blown smile. She heaves herself off the bed and heads for the cabin door, "Then meet me on the Lido deck in an hour. I'll bring the board."

Addison's eyes catch Sasha's and the sparkle in them makes Sasha's heart give a funny little thump and her lungs halt in her chest.

Robbed of words, Sasha nods and watches Addison leave.

The door closes and she feels like she can breathe again. She takes immediate advantage with a big gasp and a slow exhale.

One hour.

Somehow, it doesn't feel like enough time.

***'***

She met Addison at the table where their friendship had begun with a flying knight.

She's changed clothes and could see that Addison has as well. Instead of the customary jeans and tank-tops they'd worn in the cabin, they'd each chosen to wear a dress for this meeting; Sasha's in a solid black and Addison's in a soft yellow. This makes her feel a little giddy, her heart gladdened by each of them dressing up for this. She feels herself shaking just a bit, nerves suddenly gripping and twisting her gut.

Sasha smooths her hands over the waist of her dress feeling like this will be a match to change her life, which seems silly. This isn't an official competition; there are no prizes to be won, no notoriety to gain. It's a friendly match, the precursor to a parting of ways. There is no reason to feel like it would change everything. Sasha shakes the jumbled thoughts from her head and carefully takes her seat across from her friend.

Addison looks up with that same sparkle in her eyes she'd had leaving the cabin earlier and Sasha feels her heart give that same little thump. She knows what it means and pushes it aside to smile. She doesn't have to wonder what Addison saw in her eyes, the softening of her smile says it all. Whatever it is Sasha was feeling, that feeling she hesitated to put a name to or even think about, that look on Addison's face tells Sasha she's feeling it too.

Their eyes have been locked for several long moments without either of them speaking. It's a particularly loud laugh from another passenger that breaks their stare and they both look away, blushing.

Addison clears her throat and gestures to the box on the table, "So, I've had this set since I started playing. My dad thought giving me the good stuff would encourage me to try harder." She slides the lid, which doubles as the playing board, to reveal two sets of shining pewter pieces. One set is a deep black – these she places before herself – the other set was a more subdued steel color and would serve as 'white'.

"It's beautiful," Sasha says as she hefts the queen in her hand, the weight satisfying and the metal cool.

Once all the pieces were freed, Addison slides the board back into place and they set their pieces. "Smoke before fire," she says, pointing to Sasha's lighter set, and the game begins.

They take their time this round, thinking through every move and ahead to the next several. They each claim and lose pieces, the sides of their table filling with discarded pawns and rooks and bishops and knights. Sasha groans when she loses her queen to Addison's remaining bishop in a moment of foolishness in pursuit of Addison's king.

It's only a matter of time, now, before Addison corners her and forces her surrender. Still, she'll play until she's in full checkmate just to prolong their time together.

And it happens just a few minutes later. Addison's queen, her bishop, and her king trap Sasha's king. As Addison moves her final piece, her last knight, into place she softly says, "Checkmate."

Sasha looks into Addison's eyes to find them glittering. She smiles and tips her king over. Though she's lost, she's still proud of how far she's come. This match had been nearly a full hour long, a good fight considering Addison had been able to crush her in six minutes flat when they'd first met.

"I've had fun these last few days," Addison says in a voice barely above a whisper, suddenly shy.

Sasha smiles and reaches out to take the hand Addison had set on the table, "Me too. I don't think I've ever enjoyed losing so much." They both laugh. "It has been a pleasure to know you, Addison, and to be able to call you a friend."

Addison's eyes take on a particular wetness, tears, Sasha thinks, "I've never had a friend like you."

"What?" Sasha asks, a teasing smile pulling at her lips, "Russian?"

Addison lets out a startled laugh, "Sure. Something like that." She stands and pulls Sasha up with her to wrap her in a bear hug, one Sasha returned with all her strength. "How much time do we have left?"

Just then the ship's horn blasts the air around them.

"Not long," Sasha answers, a quiver in her voice, "I should finish packing." She doesn't want to let go, not now that Addison was right there in her arms, but she fights down the urge to tug the girl closer and instead drops her arms.

She makes a move as if to leave but Addison stops her with a hand on her arm.

"Just so we're clear," Addison licks her lips, "This was a date right? You're feeling this, too?"

"It was. I am." Sasha answers with more confidence in her voice than she actually feels.

"Good," Addison nods, "Then you won't mind if I do this." She tips up on her toes and claims a kiss from Sasha's lips, leaning into her and putting her arms around Sasha's neck.

It's like no kiss Sasha had ever taken part in before, and not just because it was with a girl. This isn't the awkward, dry press of lips that had marked her first kiss given to her by her best female friend. Nor is it the sloppier and more forceful fare she'd found in the few boys she'd dated in her home town. This is soft, a little sticky with their melding lip glosses, and a little off center from Addison's rushed approach. It isn't perfect, but it is a kiss she wanted more of and she tilts her head to find that 'just-right' angle. Her arms slide around Addison's waist and tug her closer, their dresses swishing together around their knees.

The horn blasts again and the girls are startled into separating.

Addison steps back and turns back to their table. Flustered and rushed she packs up her chess set, fumbling pieces here and there, while Sasha looks on curiously. Once Addison has it all put back together she spins around and holds it out to Sasha, "Take this with you."

Sasha shakes her head, "No, Addison, I cannot take that. It is your set, given to you by your father. You should keep it."

Addison presses it into Sasha's hands, "It is my set. And I want you to have it." She looks into Sasha eyes, tears building again, "You'll put it to better use than I do. Love it better."

Sasha reluctantly but reverently takes the game, allowing Addison to settle it into her hands, and says, "It will be like having a part of you with me, I suppose."

"That too," Addison smiles, "Maybe we'll meet again someday and have another match with this set."

"In the meantime," Sasha grins, "we will have to content ourselves with online matches, yes? Perhaps over Skype? I would like to stay in touch with you."

Addison smiles hugely, looking like she's about to burst from happiness, as she nods enthusiastically, "Of course!" She spins around, grabs a napkin, and hurriedly but legibly writes her contact information on it before stuffing it into the game box with the chess pieces. "Don't be a stranger."

Sasha tucks the box to her chest and leans over and places a soft kiss to Addison's cheek. "We will meet again," Sasha whispers, "I promise."

Addison pulls back to search Sasha's eyes, apparently finding what she's looking for she nods once and steps back. "See you when I see you, then."

"Until then," Sasha agrees.

***'***

Later, as she sits beside her coach on their flight back home, she heaves a gusty sigh and stares wistfully out the window to the ocean of clouds. Her fingers absently trace the edges of the black queen she'd carried onto the plane with her instead of packing into her luggage with the rest of the set.

"You have much on your mind," her coach says in their native Russian, "Why do you sigh so heavily?"

She lets a small smile pull at her lips and replies in her mother tongue, "I am in love and we are parted."

"Ah," he nods his head sagely, "A terrible fate for young lovers. Take heart, little one, if you are meant to be you will meet again. In the meantime focus on your career. We will make a world champion of you yet!"

Sasha lightly punches his arm and turns back to the window. She sighs again, much more softly this time, and settles back into her seat.

She brings the queen up to her lips and kisses it, hoping that somehow Addison would feel it, and whispers another promise to reunite with her someday.

**THE END**

*****'*****

_Sasha Matryoshka was a character that appeared in season three episode five of _**The Suite Life On Deck**_, "Das Boots". She was the junior chess champion of Russia and was played by Cody Kennedy._

_Addison was a recurring character on _**The Suite Life On Deck**_, with 92 pounds of pure muscle and a fondness for miming she was a friend to the main cast of kids and sometimes girlfriend of Woody Fink. She was played by Rachael Kathryn Bell._


	7. The lovely anomaly

**Survival Techniques**

by

the-lovely-anomaly

The sky was a children's storybook, written by cloud shapes and the moving figures of seagulls. It was twilight. Blue and gold merged together as the sun continued to sink below the horizon.

When I saw it, I started to cry.

It was unusual for me to cry. Embarrassing. The captain of a wrestling team wasn't supposed to cry. Even a girl captain. I tried to hide it from Maya, keeping my face turned in the opposite direction, biting my lower lip to suppress the sob that was lodged in my throat.

"Are you cold?" Maya asked.

_Slap slap slap _went the sea against the edges of our lifeboat. I stared out across the water. Smelled the moisture in the air. "We don't have anything to warm ourselves," I said.

"We could huddle," Maya tried. Then glanced down awkwardly when I looked at her. "It's a survival technique. The transfer of body heat would keep us warm."

"I'll be fine, thanks," I told her.

"Want anything to eat? Last meal we had was yesterday."

"We need to save what little we have." What little we had was a few packs of variously flavored jerky and one canteen of clean, drinkable water.

Just then, the wind picked up. A heavy breeze surged past us, carrying sea spray with it. I shivered, sandwiching my goose-bumped arms between my hunched legs. "Might storm tonight," I said. It came out before I had time to realize what it meant—heavy waves against our little boat, darkness, rain, and nothing but each other to shield ourselves.

Maya let out a humorless laugh. And then another. And another. Now was not a time to laugh, but I understood why she had to do it. The only other thing to do was cry, and she'd already cried herself out. I let out a slight chuckle myself, just for the tension relief.

The tension itself was still there, wedged into my bones, coursing all through my veins. My heartbeats seemed to splice the air, seize my breath. Terrified, but still trying to smile, I glanced down at my hands. Calloused and dry from all the rowing, hardened from all the headlocks I'd given while wrestling boys twice my size.

I should not have been there.

I should not have been me.

I should have been some boy who'd stayed firmly on dry land, who wasn't such a contradiction to life.

"I didn't have to come with you," Maya finally said. It was barely above a whisper. "Back on deck, when you grabbed me... I didn't have to come with you. I could have pulled away. I could have gone looking for Zack." She paused. "Why did you save me?"

I gazed back out over the water, which was getting darker and darker, and replied, "I had to save someone."

She let me leave it at that. No use questioning the past. She couldn't cry anymore anyway.

A few minutes later, she asked, "Becky? Do you think everyone else is dead?"

I felt the weight of the world condense my bones. My stomach butterfly-fluttered. I glanced up, hoping to rip out a page from the children's book sky and read the answer. I gave her the only response I could. "I think so."

I used to steal books from the _SS Tipton's _library. No one would have expected that from a wrestling captain, but I used to do it all the time. I would swipe all kinds of authors—Orwell, Steinbeck, Hemingway, Vonnegut—and read them in my cabin after curfew by flashlight.

I had been suspected once. Zack found me tiptoeing to my cabin without a hall pass after hours. He was Hall Monitor at the time. It was before Maya came on deck, before either of us dated him. He warned me about "the library thief" while writing me up for wandering around without authorization. He searched the backpack I was carrying, but since I'd just returned my latest steal, he didn't find anything and ended up letting me go.

I never knew why I did it in the first place. I could have just purchased a library card and been done with it. Maybe it was the adrenaline. Maybe it was the need to remain a contradiction.

I had fallen asleep right after it happened. Strange to fall asleep at a time like that, but I did. I dreamt that I was swimming in the sea against a strong current, trying to make it to a hilly island just feet away. The island caught fire and started to burn. The trees and grass were swept up in a blinding red and gold inferno. The smoke blacked out the sky.

I stopped swimming, started to sob, and allowed the current to sweep me further out to sea.

I woke up dazed, Maya at my side, screaming into my face.

"You think we'll see sharks?" she asked.

"Be quiet," I said. I was starting to get a headache. I needed silence. Sweet silence.

But my voice had been cold and Maya took offense. "What is your problem?" she snapped.

I sighed. I had no energy for anger. I was tired and hungry, scared and weak. And overwhelmed. Most of all, overwhelmed.

"I'm sorry," I said.

She nodded. "Me, too."

"If we see any sharks, I'll beat them off with my paddle."

She started to laugh that humorless laugh again.

"No one came for me. Only you." She was lying on her back, staring up at the sky. I could barely see her in the dark, but the moon outlined her profile. Her legs were bent upwards and her hands were crossed over her ribcage. She seemed peaceful despite circumstances.

"I'm sorry I had to be your hero," I told her.

She tilted her face. I couldn't see her eyes but I knew they were looking in my direction.

"I'm glad it was you," she said. "I'm glad."

_Slap slap slap _went the sea against our lifeboat. _Slap slap slap._

I didn't realize I was shivering until I felt her body nestle into mine, her arm draping over my shoulder, her breasts touching my shoulder blades, her breath blowing over my neck. I stiffened, not knowing what to do. She was at least half asleep, perhaps not even aware that she had leaned into me. I thought maybe I should move, or push her away.

But I did neither.

Instead I rubbed her arm, hoping on some subconscious level she would feel it, and then dozed off.

"We could find land," she suggested, a semi-smile trying to split her face. I could tell she was feeling better that day. More optimistic. "The current's got to take us somewhere. We could find land and work on trying to get back to the U.S."

"How?" I asked, digging my hand into a bag of smoked beef jerky. I pulled out a small piece, stuck it in my mouth, and then handed the bag to her.

She took it. "I dunno. Someone's got to look for us eventually. They can't just let us stay missing. The captain sent out signals before the ship went down. People know what happened."

"They probably think we're dead like everyone else."

"And how do we know everyone else is dead? How do we know there aren't other lifeboats out there?"

I was silent. Maya took out a piece of jerky. Popped it in her mouth. For a whole minute, the only sound either of us could hear, besides the _slap slap slap _of the water, was her chewing.

I didn't know what to say. It wasn't like her to be this positive, this willing to hope. It wasn't like me not to challenge her. "I don't think anyone else thought of the lifeboats," I finally spoke. "Too much panic."

She shook her head, affronted. "Why do you have to be so cynical? Is it really that difficult for you to have faith in someone else?"

I didn't respond.

"You want any more jerky?" she asked, holding the bag out to me.

I shook my head.

"You know, I think you don't _want_ anyone else to have survived." It was an hour later and all of the sudden, she was livid. Something in her snapped.

It may have been the lack of food. Malnutrition messes with the brain.

"Gee, thanks," I retorted. "It's nice to see you think so highly of me, especially after saving your life and all."

She groaned, exasperated. "Who do you think I am?"

"You're Maya Elizabeth Bennett," I replied. "Who else should you be?"

She rolled her eyes and turned her back towards me. We weren't going to speak for a while.

That night, she cried. It was so loud it woke me out of my sleep. She didn't just whimper and sob, she wailed, her voice trailing off into the dark, star-speckled, children's book sky, blending with the _slap slap slap _of the sea.

When I bolted up I was in a confused daze, thinking she was screaming in agony. I scooted towards her, my hand going to her shoulder, my face leaning into her hair. "Hey, hey, it's okay," I said softly. For some stupid reason I thought she was crying over our little spat. "Don't even worry about it. We're cool."

"Who... who am I kidding?" she managed to sputter.

"What do you mean?"

"You're right, everyone's dead. Zack, London, Bailey, Moseby—they're all dead. It's just you and me. That's it."

"Shhh," I gently shushed her.

"We should just jump off the boat! Both of us, just jump off the boat and let ourselves drown. There's no point in trying to live."

"Shhh," I repeated. "Don't talk like that. Just go to sleep."

And she did, finally. She cried herself to sleep, in my arms.

I held her there all night long.

The following day, there was nothing but silence. No laughing, no crying, no speaking... just calm. And yet, it wasn't calm at all. The looks we gave each other spoke, their gravity hanging in the air, dense like condensation. Almost suffocating us.

We spoke while we ate, spoke while we rowed, spoke while we ogled the water. Even though we said nothing at all, we spoke.

It was the best, worst, most profound conversation we'd ever had.

Yes, that is a contradiction. But it's absolutely true.

Midday was sweltering hot. Maya and I sat in discomfort, sweat gluing our clothes to our skin. We weren't speaking of course, but the expression of irritation on Maya's face said it all.

Unapologetically, I stripped down to my bra and panties.

Maya did the same.

We both sighed in relief, laid down on our backs, and started reading the children's book lingering over us. The clouds told us many stories.

"I want you to promise me something," she said matter-of-factly. I jumped, surprised to hear her voice. She was studying her fingernails, picking at them, which was a sign that she was nervous. "We don't know what's going to happen. We don't know if others are alive or not. We can sit here and play guessing games all we want, but the truth of the matter is we don't know."

She paused. I waited.

"We might die, Becky. I know you told me not to say things like that, but you can't pretend it isn't a possibility." She waited for me to say something, to confront her. When I didn't, she continued. "And, well, one of us might go before the other."

"What are you getting at?" I asked.

She sucked in a long breath. Released it slowly. "If something happens to me, I want you to keep going."

I bit my lower lip, wanting to yell at her but knowing that I couldn't because she was right. "If I make you a promise, you have to make me a promise," I said.

She looked at me dubiously, but then nodded.

"Alright, I promise."

"Thank you."

"Sure."

She turned her head to the side, towards the ever-expanding water.

"Maya?"

"Yeah?"

"You've still got to make your promise."

"Oh... right."

She waited, her eyes finding mine.

"Promise me nothing will happen to you."

There was a long, torturous pause. "I promise."

It stormed the following night. Our lifeboat went topsy-turvy over the waves, the white spray enshrouding us as we huddled in the back corner, holding onto each other for whatever dear life we had left. The water came at us from all sides, lunging like snakes, showering us in salt. It got in our eyes, noses, and ears. Once, the boat was nearly turned onto its side. Maya slid to the edge, shrieking as she grasped the railing to keep from plummeting overboard. I shouted her name, reaching for her, petrified at the thought of surviving alone. She was too far away to take my hand, but she stayed onboard.

The water pulsated, shoving our lifeboat this way and that. _Thwack thwack thwack,_ it went. The children's book sky was at a climax, where the future was dark, where the hero and damsel were both in distress and all appeared lost. The boat hobbled up and down, helpless, and the sea cackled at its victory. _Thwack thwack thwack_, it went. _You're mine._

A wave crashed along the boat's edge, battering me in my slightly-open mouth. Salt filled my lungs and I choked. I bent forward, coughing, retching. Maya wrapped her arms around me. My eyes were swimming, stinging. I couldn't breathe. For a moment, I didn't know where I was or what was happening. I thought I was dreaming.

Or dead.

I heard screams. Deafening screeches billowed from all around me. I covered my ears. "Stop," I whimpered. "Stop."

"Oh my God..."

I barely heard Maya's voice, but I managed to open my eyes and see the wave. It looked merciless, ready to snap its blue jaws around our fragile bones and swallow us whole.

"Maya!" I shouted through the noise. "Don't let go of me!"

And she didn't. The blow of the tide knocked us onto the flooring of the boat, kicked us back and forth until we no longer knew which way was which, and thrashed our limp bodies, but she never let me go.

There was nothing but us—us and the angry wave trying to beat us into obscurity.

The storm passed us by early morning, and all we had left was the familiar calm. We were exhausted, but we decided to survey the damage anyway. The jerky was gone, the canteen was gone—both swept away by the tide. The boat was sopping wet, on the outside and in. And we were sopping wet, on the outside and in.

We stared at each other for a long time, sitting in our water-filled lifeboat, knowing—without having to say—that we were done for. The children's storybook was at an end and there was no happily ever after. No ride into the sunset, no white dresses or suits of armor. Just salt and water, hopelessness and death. No one would know that we'd tried to live, that we _did_ live, that all we had for God knew how many days was one canteen of water, a couple bags of jerky, a lifeboat, and each other.

But we knew, and somehow that was enough for the both of us.

We held hands as we sat in our lifeboat and looked up at the sky, telling each other the stories of the clouds. She leaned against me and I leaned against her, and we transferred our body heat.

We didn't do it as a survival technique.

*'*'*'*'*

_**My Assigned Pairing:**_

_**Becky Muldoon**__ was a guest character in the __**Suite Life on Deck **__episode "Smarticle Particles." She was the captain of the boy's wrestling team who, after falling victim to one of Zack's pranks, ended up going on a date with Zack (much to Zack's disdain). Later, she left Zack for Woody. She was portrayed by __**Staci Pratt**__. _

_**Maya Elizabeth Bennett**__ was a guest character who made her first appearance in the __**Suite Life on Deck**__ episode "My Oh Maya" and her last appearance in the Season 3 finale, "Graduation." She served primarily as Zack's first serious girlfriend. However, she broke up with him in the Season 3 finale. She was portrayed by __**Zoey Deutch**__. _


	8. Woundedhearts

**Wrongful Death **

by Woundedhearts

_*'*'*'*'*_

At the sound of the cold steel gun barrel clicking into place the blood rushed to his head. The fear in his heart took shape, the thoughts of failure he thought he had pushed away came rushing back. He could hear the noises of the sleepless city nearby as he remained in place hidden by the darkness of a moonless night. The sweat drenching over his brow only fueled his nerviness, making cold clammy hands shiver, trying to hold the gun steady. He could feel his entire body shaking, from the cold or the fear, he didn't know which, but he waited as he pulled his coat more firmly around himself. Either way, it was too late to turn back. This man needed to die and he needed to be the one to kill him.

In the distance he could hear the distinct sound of thunder and hoped he would be finished by the time the rain hit. He hated rain, the cold damp feeling that it invoked always made him think of that cold September night of his freshman year in college. When his dignity was ripped from him and his life fell into ruin.

So many faces. All of them laughing, ridiculing, and taunting, their voices eternally embedded in the deepest parts of his mind. He remembered the way he'd crawled up into a fetal position in an effort to gain some warmth from Mother Nature's wrath after they had left him. His clothes by then scattered by the wind after they had been torn from his body. His blood dripping slowly into puddles around him, mingling with his tears and the pouring rain. Every part of him battered, bruised and broken. A small trauma compared to the humiliation of having to see those faces in his nightmares every time he slept from that day forward.

He never saw it coming. They were guys he'd felt like he'd known forever. They were bound by a pledge given when they entered into a brotherhood, a fraternity filled with tradition and held together by a common goal. He was proud of himself for getting in and becoming one of them. Being an only child he finally felt like he belonged somewhere. He had brothers, family. Until the day that family betrayed him, leaving him for dead.

"Brandon, don't do this." Brandon turned toward the voice just as he felt the first drops of rain descend on him.

"What are you doing here?" Suddenly his fear escalated and a greater panic rose in him. "You can't be here," he added pulling Tony into the shadows next to him.

"What do you expect me to do?" Brandon released the hold he had on him and turned him around. "I'm not going to stand by and watch you ruin your life. This is murder, Brandon. I don't care what provoked it the end will still be the same. You will have killed another person."

"Another person, the man's barely even human."

"I know what they did to you was unforgivable and I know that it will stay with you until the day you die. But…"

"But what?" Brandon looked into his eyes.

"I don't want today to be that day," Tony looked on with pleading eyes. "He's not worth dying over."

"I'm not the one dying tonight."

"You pull that trigger and you might as well be." Tony placed his chin on Brandon's shoulder and leaned in. "Please think about your future. Think about our future."

"You don't understand. Go home."

"There were four of them that night. Are you planning on killing all of them?"

"I said go home."

"No, you do this, you do it in front of me." Tony waited for that to sink in while he tried another tactic. "I know how you feel. Believe me I know. But if you spend the rest of your life with hate in your heart, they win. Don't let them do that to you. You have so much love to give, don't let them destroy that."

"Please, just go."

"No." Tony folded his arms in front of his chest. "As hard as you may want to believe this. You're not made of stone. Killing him won't help you forget." Tony again stepped forward pulling him into a fierce hug. "Come home with me."

Suddenly the door to the backroom opened and the man he hadn't seen in five years stepped outside. He could smell the stench of the alcohol from where he stood and cringed. A perfect target, and with the darkness and the silencer no one would be the wiser. One pull of the trigger and it would all be over.

But even so, with the gun raised and his aim set, he hesitated.

"Brandon," his name left Tony's lips on a whisper. "Please."

Brandon turned and pressed his lips hard against Tony's, leaving behind a small part of himself. Walking out into the night, he called out a name and raised his gun, firing one shot. A body fell to the ground and a cry was heard in the night. While a cold piece of medal slipped from a hand.

With a single shot, both that man, and the nightmares, became a thing of the past.

*'*'*'*'*

_**AN:**__ Okay kind of a strange little tale, but it was nagging at me and I wanted to try and see if I could get anywhere with it. I want to thank "Tiger002" for tweaking a bit and for beta-ing it for me. :)_

_Brandon was in the __**Suite life of Zack and Cody**__. The episode was called __**Scary Movies**__ and he played the candy delivery guy who ultimately went out with London. He was played by Tahj Mowry._

_Tony was in the __**Suite life of Zack and Cody**__. The episode was called __**Lip' Syncing in the Rain **__and he played one of the actors on stage. He was played by Mark Indelicato._


	9. SilverTurtle II

**A LITTLE ADVICE FROM A FRIEND **

by SilverTurtle

*'*'*'*'*'*'*'*'*'*'*'*'*'*

London turned yet another hopeful suitor away and returned to staring moodily out at the dance floor as he sulked back to his jeering friends. Another party aboard the _S.S. Tipton_, the third this month, and still no one worthy of her attentions had made an appearance. How was she ever going to find a trophy husband, someone she could have and love and lavish her with gifts, if she didn't find him at one of these shindigs her father insisted she attend?

"You're not dancing," London looked up at the speaker, Connie, and rolled her eyes more out of habit than any irritation with the woman. "As Director of Funtertainment I just can't have someone here who isn't having fun! Let's get you one that dance floor and shaking your groove thing."

London closed her eyes and leaned further back in her seat, "No thanks, Connie. I'm not in the mood."

She heard Connie take the seat next to her and knew that meant she was about to get yet another well-meaning heart to heart from one of her father's many employees. She was well used to them by now having received plenty from Moseby, Carey, Maddie, Arwin, and Miss Tutweiller but that didn't mean she enjoyed them in the least.

"What's wrong, London?" When London opened her eyes she saw Connie wore a mask of friendly concern, "You've been moping around the ship for months. What could possibly have you so down?"

London frowned and replied with a bit of attitude, "I haven't been moping."

"You have," Connie persisted, "Just yesterday I saw you throw out a mail order catalog without ordering a thing! That just isn't like you. Normally you'd have at least nine items flown in by helicopter within the hour!"

London crossed her arms and huffed, "Well, maybe I didn't like their collection."

"London, you always like Louis Vuitton," Connie said flatly. "Everyone likes Louis Vuitton."

London pouted, "Fine. I liked it. But what's the point?"

"The point of what?"

"Of buying all this stuff if I don't have anyone to show it off to?" London threw up her hands, exasperated with herself for feeling this way. She'd never needed someone to tell her she was looking extra hot that day, no one but her mirror, but it was as if these last few months all she wanted was someone, a human someone, to kiss her hand and tell her she looked smokin' fine.

"Oh, London," Connie put a reassuring hand on London's shoulder, "You have an entire ship of people to show it off to."

"But nobody that matters," London argued, missing the mildly offended look on Connie's face. "I don't mean the usual looks of envy, Connie. I get those all the time from all of you regular poor people. I don't want the 'wow, I wish I had as much money as she does', of course everyone wants that. What I want is the 'wow, she's gorgeous and she's mine and I am so lucky' look from someone worthy of me. But I haven't met anyone!"

Connie sat back, clearly stunned, "What about that nice young man you just turned down?"

"Him?" London scrunched up her nose and shook her head, "What about him?"

"Well, you just met him. And from where I was standing he was giving you a pretty 'wow' look."

London scoffed, "Yeah, 'wow she's got a great set of -'"

"That's how a lot of relationships start, London," Connie rushed to speak over London and smiled a little, "Physical attraction. The real appreciation doesn't usually come around until after you've gotten to know one another. You could have given him a chance."

"But," London leaned forward and whispered, "he's poor."

Connie's jaw dropped, "Poor? London, he's on a cruise ship in the middle of April. He is not poor."

London shrugged and waved a dismissive hand, "He's poor compared to me."

"Everyone's poor compared to you! You're London Tipton!" Connie lightly slapped her palm down on the table, "You're never going to find someone if your criteria for a match is them having as much wealth as you. There are really great people in the world who don't have a penny to their name."

"Nonsense," London crossed her arms again, "Anyone worth knowing is rich."

Connie's eyes were wide and she leaned towards London, "So you don't think your friends are worth knowing? Bailey, Zack, Cody, and the others?"

London's brow furrowed, "Of course they are. They're my friends."

"But they're 'poor' by your standards, London, and you just said anyone worth knowing is rich."

"Obviously, they're exceptions to the rule," London smiled, "They clearly recognize my superiority and fabulousness."

Connie snorted, "Right. Okay. So, what's to say that someone out there on the dance floor couldn't be an exception to your rule?"

London frowned, "Nothing, I guess."

"Right!" Connie clapped and sat up straight, "So, why don't you get out there and meet some people! Maybe one of them will turn out to be an exception."

"I'm not sure I should be taking romantic advice from you," London pursed her lips and tapped her fingers on the table.

"What? Why not?"

"You get dumped, like, all the time," London answered plainly with no thought to spare Connie's feelings.

Connie grit her teeth and tilted her head, "Thank you, so much, for reminding me of that."

London blanched at the chilly tone in the usually friendly woman's voice and realized she'd been insensitive, which usually wouldn't bother her but Connie was an employee and it was always better to have them on your side, "I just meant that you keep dating losers, and they keep dumping you and leaving you a mess for days afterward. I really don't want to put myself through the same."

Connie took a calming breath and put her hand over London's on the table, "I know I get dumped a lot, and yeah it hurts, but I'm never going to find the one who won't dump me if I don't keep putting myself out there. No risk, no reward." She squeezed London's hand, "London, you won't find the exception to your rule if you don't give some of those poor guys a chance."

London sighed, "I guess you're right."

Connie gave London a sympathetic smile. "You might not find the right guy right away. You might get your heart broken once or twice. But eventually you will find the one for you, London, I'm sure of it." Connie grinned and pulled London to her feet by their connected hands. "And in the meantime you've got a perfect resource on how to get over a guy," with a silly grin she hooked her thumb to indicate herself and they both laughed. "Now, let's get you dancing."

London smiled, feeling more hopeful than she'd been in months, and nodded. She felt like she'd maybe made another friend tonight and that was better than she'd expected. "Thanks Connie," she squeezed the other woman's hand, "it means a lot, you looking out for me like this."

Connie swung their hands a little, "Well, someone has to. Moseby can't watch you all the time."

London let Connie lead her out onto the dance floor. They danced once together to get London comfortable before Connie ceded her position to the same young man London had turned down before their talk. He might not be the one for her, London decided, but he was a step in the right direction.

**THE END**

*'*'*'*'*'*'*'*'*'*

_Connie is a character from __**The Suite Life On Deck**__ who appeared in two episodes of season one, "Flowers and Chocolate" and "Cruisin' for a Bruisin'". She was the Activities Coordinator (or, the Director of Funtertainment) aboard the S.S. Tipton and was played by Jennifer Tisdale._

_London Tipton, played by the incomparable Brenda Song, was a main character in both __**The Suite Life of Zack and Cody**__ and __**The Suite Life On Deck**__. She is a wealthy heiress to the Tipton fortune and a good friend to Zack and Cody._


	10. Snapplelinz II

_**A/N: **This is my second pairing for the collection. Please ignore canon from the season 3 finale of **'Suite Life on Deck'** for this particular story. _

_*'*'*'*'*'*_

**Tutoring's Really Not My Beat**

by Snapplelinz

*'*'*'*'*'*

"No, wait! Officer, if you just listen to me, I can explain this whole thing-"

The middle-aged chubby policeman simply rolled his eyes and slammed the cell door shut.

The women surrounded by four grey walls couldn't have had less in common if they tried.

The older of the two was in her mid-30's, tall and statuesque with vivid red hair, and a teacher by profession.

The younger of the two was in her early 20's, short and dainty with dark curly hair and had a very kooky personality.

"I can't believe this is happening to me. I'm a good person!" Emma Tutweiller wailed, clutching her face in her hands as she sank down onto the flea-ridden mattress. "I pay my taxes, I'm nice to my cats…" she sobbed.

"Aww, don't get so upset, Emma." Corrie crooned, patting Ms Tutweiller's shoulder sympathetically. "They can only keep us in jail overnight." She added brightly.

"Only overnight?" Emma thundered, rising to her feet. "I wouldn't even be in jail period if it weren't for you and your crazy obsession with London Tipton!"

"What can I say? The heart wants what it wants." Corrie answered with a feeble grin, her smile wavering slightly at the glare she received from Emma.

"How did I ever let you talk me into this?" Emma moaned more to herself while she lay huddled in the foetal position on the single cot.

_**A month ago…**_

After her contract aboard the S.S. Tipton had ceased, Emma Tutweiller struggled to find work as a teacher at another school in Boston.

Until she answered an ad in _The Herald_ from a college student who needed tutoring because she was failing all of her classes.

When Emma had first met Corrie, she wasn't entirely sure that the girl was completely sane.

"Boo!"

"Aaargh!"

It took Emma a good minute to recover her breath and still her rapidly beating heart while she stared aghast at the short brunette standing in front of her with a manic smile.

"You must be Emma Tutweiller! Oh my God, you are so much prettier in person! I mean, when you sent me your photo, I thought, 'She's adorable in a school teacher kind of way'. But you are seriously a MILF!"

"Let me guess: you must be Corrie." Emma ventured with a nervous grin.

"I am! It's so great to meet you. I know we're gonna be besties!" Corrie gushed before engulfing an astonished Emma in her petite, but surprisingly strong arms in the middle of the Tipton lobby.

Emma had to admit that her prospective student was terribly sweet and desperately in need of help.

And she gave great hugs.

So she'd agreed to tutor her 3 times a week in-between her classes at Boston University.

But this new schedule came with some interesting conditions on Corrie's part.

**#1: Always meet at different venues.**

"Uh…why are we meeting in the bushes?" Emma queried in confusion.

"Isn't it neat? I love bushes, they're just so green and they always smell great!" Corrie exclaimed with exuberance.

"Are those night vision goggles?" Emma questioned.

"Uh huh." Corrie answered rapidly, keeping her goggles trained on something that Emma couldn't identify for the moment.

"Corrie, I think we should start on the next topic for your upcoming Art History assignment-"

"Has anyone ever told you that you have really pretty eyes?"

Corrie had taken the goggle lenses away from her eyes and instead began staring at Emma with a penetrating look. Something about the unnerving honesty of Corrie's face made the small in Emma's back tingle with anticipation.

"Uh, n-not really. Except for my last boyfriend…before he leapt out of a car to get away from me." Emma stammered feebly.

"Aww, that's too bad, he was an idiot for letting you go. At least he and I agree on one thing though." Corrie replied in earnest, a warm smile creasing her lovely face.

Emma's heart rate sped up at this and she found herself blushing, a nervous smile playing on her lips simultaneously.

"Wow, Corrie, that's so sweet-"

"Look, a lady bug! Aww, it's so cute!" Corrie shrieked, startling Emma out of finishing her sentence.

After an unusual start, Emma and Corrie began to spend more time together in aid of prepping Corrie for her upcoming end-of-semester exams.

And things continued to become even more bizarre for Emma's short stint as a tutor to the kooky brunette.

**#2: Always wear a disguise. **

"Corrie, I really don't understand why you insisted on me wearing a baggy trench coat over my regular clothes, dark sunglasses and a hat." Emma stated in bafflement.

"Because, the wind is really strong downtown. I didn't want you to catch a cold, silly." Corrie giggled.

"Well, that's very thoughtful of you, Corrie. Why are we in a grocery store though?" Emma asked in confusion.

"Because, I uh…ran out of…barley."

"Ok, but couldn't you just have gotten extra barley near home? We're in the Bay Area, you live in West Roxbury."

"I got out of class early and I was in the neighbourhood."

"Ok, but-"

"Ooh, free cheese samples! Have a bite!"

Just as a familiar-looking black-haired girl stopped at the other end of the aisle to look at a display of caviar, Corrie grabbed a small block of camembert on a toothpick off a nearby table and pressed it to Emma's parted lips.

"Wow, that is really good." Emma admitted through a mouthful of hot cheese.

"Told ya. Oops, you got a little on the side of your mouth."

Corrie leant in and daintily wiped the fleck of melted cheese off of the corner of Emma's mouth with the back of her pinkie.

The slight movement sent a bolt of electricity through Emma's palms and she shivered at the close proximity between her and the brunette.

Even Corrie didn't move away immediately, still standing on her tiptoes and staring deep into Emma's eyes.

"Thanks." Emma murmured in a shaky whisper.

"You're welcome. Do you wanna go to a concert?"

"Huh?" Emma questioned, still in a daze over what had just transpired.

Corrie, who had been staring pensively at something near the end of the aisle, suddenly looked at Emma again and smiled. "Everything Stinks is having a concert here in the city this coming Saturday night. Do you wanna go together?"

"Oh gee, I don't know. All that loud music and noisy crowds-"

"Please please! They're my favourite band in the whole wide world! It'll be so much fun with you there! Say yes!"

Emma chuckled at the look of pure glee in Corrie's eyes. It had been ages since she'd done something really fun.

Being around such a vivacious and free spirited girl like Corrie was a breath of fresh air.

She just couldn't say no to her no matter how hard she tried.

"Ok, I'll go with you." Emma finally conceded.

"Yay!" Corrie cheered, engulfed Emma in yet another bone-crushing hug and planted a kiss on her lips. "This is gonna be so awesome! I'll meet you outside the gates at 7pm!"

"Wait, what about our tutoring session?" Emma called out as Corrie began skipping down the aisle.

"We'll do it tomorrow, promise! See you on Saturday! Don't forget to bring sunglasses to the concert!" Corrie yelled and gave her favourite tutor a happy wave.

"Why would I wear sunglasses at night?" Emma asked more of herself.

"Bye…" She croaked in bewilderment, her fingers grazing over her mouth where Corrie had kissed her seconds ago.

**#3: Always follow the student's lead.**

"WOW, THIS IS A REALLY ENERGETIC SET!" Emma yelled over the din of the crowd.

She was being bustled to and fro by people head-banging and dancing, shrieking and singing along to the heavy metal music being played on stage.

Corrie stood next to her, hopping up and down and yelling out the name of the famous female lead singer, who was currently playing a riveting solo on her Fender guitar to 'Nobody Knows'.

"OH MY GOD, I LOVE THIS SONG!" Corrie screamed ecstatically, her wavy hair shaking around her while she shook her hands in the air.

In all honesty, Emma wasn't sure if she liked 'Everything Stinks' at all.

The heavy bass line on their songs was deafening in her ears and the crowd around her was jostling her like a Piñata.

Not to mention the fact that the blue and pink fluorescent lights flooding the stage and the arena were beginning to give her a migraine.

"CORRIE, I DON'T FEEL SO GOOD-"

"I WANNA GET A SHOT OF THE BAND!" Corrie interjected, retrieving her digital camera from her pants pocket. "LET'S GET CLOSER!"

"BUT THAT'S THE GOLDEN CIRCLE, CORRIE! WE CAN'T GO PAST THERE!" Emma protested in a high-pitched voice.

"DON'T WORRY, WE'LL GO AS CLOSE TO THE GATES AS WE CAN GET!"

"CORRIE, WAIT A MINUTE! CORRIE!"

Emma was having a hard time pushing through multitudes of people to chase after Corrie, who was slowly making her way toward the golden circle.

Just then, she saw a familiar figure standing near the gates separating the golden circle from the rest of the standing seats in the stadium, swatting away the hands of multiple people with a look of disgust on her Asian features.

"EW! I'VE GOT GERMY POOR PEOPLE SWEAT ON MY DELICATE PORES!"

"LONDON, IS THAT YOU?"

"WHO SAID THAT? WAIT…MS TUTWEILLER? WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?"

"WHAT ARE _YOU_DOING HERE?"

"WATCHING MY FAVOURITE BAND. I WANTED TO SIT IN A GLASS BOOTH, BUT DADDY SAID THEY DON'T HAVE THOSE AT CONCERTS. SO HE GOT ME TICKETS IN THE GOLDEN ARENA WITH ALL THE OTHER COMMONERS!" London yelled out in explanation.

Her eyes narrowed unexpectedly however when they fell on Corrie, who was grinning maniacally at her.

"_WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH HER?" _

"I'M HER TUTOR!" Emma shouted.

"HEY, LONDON! OH MY GOD, YOU LOOK SO PRETTY!" Corrie gushed.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, YOU FREAK? DIDN'T MY PEOPLE TELL YOU TO STAY AWAY FROM ME?"

"CORRIE, WHAT IS LONDON TALKING ABOUT?"

"LONDON, THAT WAS A BIG MISUNDERSTANDING! I DIDN'T BREAK INTO YOUR PENTHOUSE. I JUST WANTED TO TIDY IT UP FOR YOU BEFORE YOU CAME HOME FOR CHRISTMAS BREAK LAST YEAR!"

"CORRIE, WHAT'S GOING ON?" Emma demanded, her heart sinking in her chest.

"YEAH RIGHT! YOU WERE STALKING ME JUST LIKE ALWAYS!"

"I'M SORRY, LONDON! I JUST WANNA BE YOUR FRIEND SO BAD!"

"SECURITY!"

"MS LONDON, WHAT'S THE PROBLEM!"

"THIS FREAKSHOW IS BOTHERING ME AGAIN! THROW HER IN A DUNGEON!" London bellowed out imperiously.

"LONDON, HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I TOLD YOU THAT PEOPLE DON'T HAVE DUNGEONS ANYMORE?" Emma blurted out in exasperation.

"YOUNG LADY, HOW MANY TIMES DO WE HAVE TO GO THROUGH THIS WITH YOU? YOU'RE COMING WITH US!" the head of London's security detail barked out to Corrie.

"LONDON, WAIT!" Corrie protested, trying to grab London's arm.

"TAKE A STEP BACK!"

"NOW YOU JUST WAIT ONE SECOND, BUSTER!" Emma yelled in a no-nonsense manner, trying to intervene with the security guard who had grabbed Corrie.

Without thinking twice about it, Emma seized a hotdog from a guy standing next to her and threw it in the security guard's face.

"YOU JUST GOT MUSTARD ALL OVER MY SHINY SECURITY BADGE! GET THEM!"

"RUN!" Corrie yelled in fright.

Emma didn't need a second invitation as she and Corrie shoved unceremoniously through the crowd.

Just as one security guard began to close in on Emma's shorter strides, Corrie took the remnants of her cherry slushie and threw it on the ground behind her.

The security guard slipped on the sticky puddle and fell on the floor in a heap. A few more security guards tripped and fell over him, knocking some of the concert goers over in their pursuit.

"LET'S FIND THE NEAREST EXIT!" Emma instructed as she and Corrie climbed a flight of stairs.

She had never done anything like that in her entire life before.

She was exhilarated, her heart thumping with pure adrenaline as she and Corrie tried to evade London's security detail.

Unfortunately, they had only made it down a lonely alleyway outside of the stadium when they were suddenly surrounded by cop cars with blue and red cherries flashing against the indigo sky.

They were pushed onto their stomachs on the hood of a cop car and handcuffed by a butch-looking policewoman.

Emma's former elation dissipated and reality sunk in once more as they were escorted into a police van and driven to the nearest precinct to be booked for assault.

"Emma, please say something." Corrie pleaded for the millionth time.

"I was arrested tonight, Corrie! Arrested! I got a freakin' mugshot! The only thing worse than that picture is my senior class photo when I was still fat!" Emma shrieked dramatically.

"Ok, that was pretty bad. But you have to admit, it felt good throwing hot dogs and slushies at a bunch of security guards that probably work at the mall during their vacations." Corrie joked lightly while sitting on her bunk.

"You tricked me, Corrie."

"Emma, you have to understand-"

"You used me! I was humiliated tonight! And all because you're obsessed with London Tipton of all people."

Corrie's face fell and she came to stand next to Emma's bed. "I'm so sorry, Emma. You have to believe me. I never meant for any of this to happen."

"I get it now." Emma declared without looking at Corrie. "All of those times you asked me to show up in a new disguise during our tutoring sessions. London was in all of those places we went to, wasn't she? Including the concert."

"Yeah, she was. She likes to occasionally walk in that park I took you to and she buys her caviar at that greengrocer in the Bay Area."

"Oh my God, Corrie…"Emma moaned, her head in her hands.

"You answering my ad was a coincidence. But then I looked you up online and realised that you used to be London's teacher on the S.S. Tipton. That's why I was so eager for you to be my tutor." Corrie explained.

"So you could get closer to London?" Emma asked, her stomach feeling like lead.

"No! Not exactly…"Corrie trailed off.

She placed a hand on Emma's shoulder. When the red-head didn't shrug her off, Corrie continued: "I was failing my classes because of London. I figured that if you could help London graduate from high school, maybe you could help me pass my exams too so I could graduate. I wanted to forget about London and move on. But…I just caught up in my old habits again.

I really do like you, Emma. It's just that…I've had a crush on London ever since she went to Our Lady of Perpetual Sorrow. Have you ever wanted somebody so bad that it physically hurts where your heart's supposed to be in your chest?"

A lone tear ran from Corrie's eye and spilled down onto her cheek. She wiped it away hastily and chuckled ruefully. "Who am I kidding? Of course you don't understand. You're so smart and beautiful and…together."

Her shoulders slumped and she sank back onto her cot, curling up into the foetal position.

As mad as Emma was at Corrie for deceiving her, something about the young woman's unabashed vulnerability spoke volumes to her in that moment.

"Actually…I do understand. A lot more than you think." Emma piped up after a few seconds of silence.

Corrie looked up from her position and stared at Emma.

Emma scratched her arm self-consciously and elaborated: "The truth is…I suck at relationships. I always fall in love quickly and come on way too strong. It scares my boyfriends off and they always find new humiliating ways to break up with me. I once got dumped by text message." She explained with a humourless laugh.

"The point is, sometimes it's ok to be a little mysterious and not wear your heart on your sleeve, Corrie. You can't keep chasing someone who doesn't feel the way you do. It never works, trust me."

"You're absolutely right, Emma. But no one's ever said it to me like that before. My friend, Mary-Margaret just tells me, 'Corrie, quit crushing on London! You're creeping us all out! I'll pray for you'." Corrie stated.

Emma couldn't help chuckling at this. "That's what my students used to tell me every time I got dumped by one of my boyfriends, minus the 'praying' part."

"That's hilarious. Even while I was doing all of that crazy stuff to get London's attention, I had the most fun just being with you, Emma. You're always nice to me and accept me just as am, kooks and all. Plus, you stuck up for me when that security guard tried to rough me up back at the concert. You're really awesome."

"So are you, Corrie. Don't let anyone ever tell you otherwise. Plus, you did take out a security guard for me with a well-timed slushie, so I guess that's pretty cool too." Emma responded sincerely.

Corrie smiled radiantly just as the chubby police officer returned.

"You made bail," he croaked, opening the cell door with a loud clang.

Corrie and Emma sprang to their feet in an instant. "Bail? From who?" Emma queried in alarm.

"London Tipton. She paid for both of you. She didn't wanna come in person, so she sent one of her assistants to bring the cash. But she did say something along the lines of 'Even though I'm totally nuts for doing this, no one deserves to sleep in a stinky prison cell. But don't come anywhere near me, freak! I'm talking to you, Corrie!'." The policeman recited in a dull monotone.

"So we're free to go?" Corrie asked happily, deciding to ignore the last part of London's insulting message.

"Yip. Have a nice night." He stated gruffly, returning to his tiny office.

After retrieving their belongings from the night-clerk, Emma and Corrie stepped outside into the brisk Boston night.

"Well…I should probably head back to my dorm. I'm really sorry about getting you arrested. I guess I'll see you around, Emma."

With a sad smile, Corrie turned away and began walking down the empty sidewalk.

Emma knew she was better off walking as far away from Corrie as possible in the opposite direction.

But the less rational part of her brain compelled her to call out to the short brunette before she got to the bus stop a few blocks away.

"Corrie, wait!"

Emma sprinted the whole way and came to a careening stop in front of Corrie, her sides burning with strain.

"I don't condone stalking anyone and I don't think it's a good idea for me to be your tutor anymore. But…do you maybe wanna try being friends instead?" Emma asked softly.

"I'd really like that." Corrie responded genuinely.

"I have a few conditions of my own though," Emma warned in a stern voice. "You have to be completely upfront with me about all things London Tipton and I'll try my best to help you get over her. Oh, and please don't drag me to another 'Everything Stinks' concert ever again. Their music is all noise and nothing else." She added with an internal wince on the last part.

Corrie giggled and nodded rapidly in turn. "Deal." She agreed, extending her hand.

Emma smiled and shook Corrie's hand eagerly. "Ok, we'll start with a clean slate."

"A clean slate sounds pretty good to me. All that jail-time gave me a huge appetite. You feel like grabbing a bite to eat somewhere? My treat." Corrie declared generously as she and Emma hopped aboard a bus.

"Ok. But I'll pick the place. I'm not going anywhere regarded as a 'London Tipton favourite'." Emma quipped sardonically.

"Aww, don't be like that. Don't you trust me, Ms Tutweiller?"

"Uh…not really. After all, you did make me wear a trench coat in a grocery store in the middle of June!"

"It really was a windy day. I didn't want you to get cold!"

"Ch-yeah, ok. Whatever you say, Corrie…"

They continued bickering playfully throughout their bus ride and for most of their newfound friendship after that moment.

*'*'*'*'*

_**A/N: **Finally finished this story, it took a while ;D _

_Emma Tutweiller is played by the lovely Erin Cardillo. She is a recurring character in **'The Suite Life on Deck'** series and is a teacher at the Seven Seas Academy aboard the S.S. Tipton. _

_The ever kooky Corrie is played by the lovely Vanessa Hudgens. She appears in several episodes of **'The Suite Life of Zack and Cody'** along with some of her other High School Musical cohorts._


	11. James Doyle II

**What It's Really About**

By

James Doyle

At the invitation of her old high school friend Mary-Margaret, Maddie accompanied her to the banks of the Charles River to watch the Harvard Men's Lightweight Crew row against perennial rival Cornell. Maddie had very little interest in the sport. Neither did Mary-Margaret for that matter, save for her boyfriend being on the crew. Nonetheless, since she'd committed to attending, Maddie tried her best to pay attention to the race, watching the race through a pair of binoculars.

"Which one is Jeremy, again?" asked Maddie.

"Fifth position," answered Mary-Margaret.

"Oh yeah," said Maddie. "He's cute."

"You can't really see him from here," argued Mary-Margaret.

"You're right," admitted Maddie. "But I bet he's cute."

"Oh, he's better than cute," said Mary-Margaret. "Just wait until you meet him."

That occasion came at the end of the race, which Harvard won by less than a boat's length. Maddie's suspicions about the athlete's good looks were confirmed when her friend introduced her to a short but well-built, dark-haired, olive skinned fellow.

"Jeremy," called Mary-Margaret as she ran up to him and kissed him.

"Hey babe," he greeted. "Glad you could make it."

"Are you kidding?" responded Mary-Margaret. "I wouldn't miss it."

"Um, hi," greeted Maddie.

"Oh, gosh, where are my manners?" apologized Mary-Margaret. "Jeremy, this my very good friend Maddie."

"Pleasure to meet you," greeted Jeremy with a smile and a firm handshake.

"The pleasure is all mine," swooned Maddie.

"Hands off, girl," Mary-Margaret admonished half-jokingly. "He's all mine."

"You got that right, babe," agreed Jeremy as he and Mary-Margaret shared another kiss.

"Jeremy," interrupted a voice that with a snooty New England affectation. "Are you coming to the pub with us or not?"

"Yeah, we'll be along in a minute," Jeremy replied annoyedly to his stuck-up blond friend.

"Who's your new friend?" inquired the young man.

"Ashton, this Mary-Margaret's friend Maddie," introduced Jeremy. "Maddie, this is Ashton Middleton, my teammate and my roommate."

"Charmed," greeted Ashton, taking Maddie's hand and kissing it.

"I'm sure," Maddie replied flatly, singularly unimpressed by the aristocrat's phony chivalry.

"Maddie, we we just about to head down to our favorite watering hole for a beer or two," invited Jeremy. "Would you like to join us?"

"Yeah, sure," accepted Maddie. While not keen on spending any more time with Ashton, she did relish the opportunity to spend some rare quality time with Mary-Margaret.

The four of them tried their best to have a conversation in the midst of other people chattering, loud music, and the clack of billiard balls. Nonetheless they managed to share a few laughs and knock a few beers back. Maddie had to admit, while Ashton wasn't her favorite person in the world, he did at least make her laugh. Just then, Jeremy received a text message.

"Oh crap," lamented Jeremy. "It's from my advisor. He wants to see me at eight o'clock tomorrow. Sorry to bail on you guys, but we really need to get going."

"No worries," assured Maddie. "It was really nice to meet you."

"Good to see you," said Mary-Margaret, giving Maddie a hug.

"You too," reciprocated Maddie. "We'll have to do it again sometime."

After a few moments' awkward silence, Maddie sought to make her exit.

"I should probably get going, too," announced Maddie.

"Just one more thing," requested Ashton.

"What is it?"

"I know we've just met, but I find you inexplicably charming," declared Ashton. "If you might allow me to call you, perhaps we could explore this further."

Maddie sighed. "Look, Ashton, I'm flattered," she lied. "I really am. But you're really not my type."

"Oh, I understand that," argued Ashton. "Normally, I wouldn't be interested, either. However, you do well to exemplify your South Boston roots."

"Could you be any more condescending?" Maddie asked indignantly.

"Oh, such pride," gushed Ashton. "I love it! And to be frank, you do have...shall we say...certain other attributes."

"Guess the answer is yes," noted Maddie as she emptied her beer onto his face.

Ashton wiped the suds out of his eyes, and laughed. "This one has spirit!"

That proved to be the last straw, as Maddie bawled her fist and delivered Ashton a blow squarely between the eyes, sending him stumbling backward across the room to crash into a nearby table.

The entire crowd stood in stunned silence for a moment before Maddie got a running start to dive-bomb the young aristocrat. Just as she was about to take off, a couple of bouncers restrained her, and carried her off.

"You're outta here!" declared the bartender.

Later that night, London arrived at the police station and posted Maddie's bail. They rode in silence for a few minutes before London addressed the big white elephant in the proverbial room.

"Why'd you do it?" asked London, out of curiosity rather than disapproval.

"He was hitting on me," Maddie stated matter-of-factly.

"So what?" argued London. "Guys hit on you all the time. You don't break _their _noses."

"This one was different," countered Maddie. "He acted like I was his to claim, and nothing I said seemed to make him think otherwise."

"Ugh," reviled London. "I've met guys like that. Sad to say, I've even dated a few of 'em. So who was he?"

"Does the name Ashton Middleton mean anything to you?"

"Yeah, I know him," said London. "The guy's a putz. He probably deserved to get laid out."

A few days later, Mary-Margaret came to see Maddie at work just as her shift was ending.

"Hi," Maddie greeted somberly.

"Hi, yourself," greeted Mary-Margaret.

"Are you mad at me?"

"No," stated Mary-Margaret. "You could've handled it more gracefully, but he had it coming."

"I hope I didn't screw anything up between you and Jeremy," said Maddie.

"We'll be fine," assured Mary-Margaret. "Actually, I came to bring you some good news. Ashton is dropping the charges."

"That's great!" exclaimed Maddie.

"Yeah," agreed Mary-Margaret. "Listen, you're under no obligation, but Ashton would really like to talk to you, tonight, down at the boathouse."

"Yeah," answered Maddie. "Well, no offense, but I really don't want to talk to him."

"I know," acknowledged Mary-Margaret. "But I really think you should. Maybe you can make him understand."

Maddie sighed. Knowing her friend was right, she nodded in agreement.

Maddie arrived at the boathouse to find the place dark and deserted. She was ready to conclude that Ashton had bailed on her when she found one of the doors unlocked and slightly ajar. She closed the door behind her, and found Ashton waiting inside.

"Hello, Maddie," greeted Ashton.

"Hi," she replied.

"I hope you understand why I've asked you here," began Ashton.

"Listen," declared Maddie. "If you think we've got some kind of weird belligerent sexual thing going on here, you've really got the wrong idea."

"No," said Ashton. "I wanted to apologize."

"For what?" Maddie asked rhetorically.

"I really do like you," declared Ashton. "But I realize I may have expressed that desire inappropriately. I would like you to give me another chance."

"You just don't get it," interrupted Maddie, shaking her head.

"Get what?" asked Ashton.

"What it's really about," clarified Maddie. "Ashton, you still think you're better than me; that I owe you something."

"That's not true," denied Ashton.

"I'm pretty sure it is," insisted Maddie. "It's true that I want a better life for myself, but that doesn't mean I want yours. And there's nothing wrong with me feeling that way. In order to be the guy for me, you'd have to become a completely different person. I don't see that happening, and I don't think it should."

"Then there's the rub," concluded Ashton. "I'm not sure I know who I really am."

"I think you'd best figure that out," declared Maddie.

Ashton nodded. "Very well, then. I won't insult your intelligence by suggesting that we could be friends, but do you suppose, for the sake of our friends, that we could declare a truce?"

"Yeah, I think we can manage that," agreed Maddie.

"Goodbye, then," declared Ashton with a handshake. "I wish you well."

"You, too," reciprocated Maddie.

**The End**

_Madeline "Maddie" Fitzpatrick, Tipton employee, best friend to London Tipton, and perennial unrequited love interest to Zack Martin, was a regular character in _The Suite Life of Zack and Cody_. She was played by Ashley Tisdale._

_Ashton (whose last name I made up), the snooty rich boyfriend of Zack's love-interest-of-the-week Violet Berg, who tried to frame Zack for robbery, appeared in the _Suite Life on Deck _episode "Kidney of the Sea". His character was an homage Billy Zane's Caledon Hockley from the motion picture _Titanic_, and was played by Aaron Perilo._


	12. SilverTurtle III

**LOVE GONE BUT NOT FORGOTTEN**

by SilverTurtle

*****'*****

They met by accident.

He'd come upon her wandering the bowels of the ship, clearly lost, as he'd been returning from checking the systems down below. She'd told him she'd gotten turned around looking for a friend's room and could not find her way back. He'd escorted her back to passenger dorms, carefully explaining the layout of the ship so she wouldn't find herself lost again, and sent her on her way.

He'd thought that would be the end of it and he'd never see her again, as often happened with people who wandered where they ought not to be.

He'd been wrong.

Many times he'd found her as she explored the hidden nooks and crannies of the ship.

Each time he found her she'd professed her terrible sense of direction and asked him to lead her back to more frequented parts of the ship.

He'd come to think it a pleasant game they played. It was clear to him she wasn't actually lost. He dared to dream that she deliberately hid in out of the way places hoping he'd search her out so they might have their moments together as he walked her back.

She was a beautiful woman. Blonde and sleek with aristocratic features and ice blue eyes, full lips and all the curves a man could wish for.

The only strangeness he'd noticed beyond her uncommon loveliness was that she'd worn gloves constantly.

He'd never seen her bare hands. He wondered, at times, what the reason could be but he would never be disrespectful enough to ask. A man knows better than to probe into things a woman wishes to keep hidden.

In their frequent encounters in the deeps of the ship they'd become a sort of friends. He'd spoken to her of his work and philosophies of the world. She'd listened and replied with her own views of the world. If either had thought the other odd they'd never said, merely smiled and laughed and took pleasure in the company.

A week into their odd acquaintance he'd been bold enough to offer her a single rose and ask her on a date.

She'd been even bolder and asked to be taken to his quarters.

They'd spent many hours coupling. She encouraging him beyond his usual endurance with her seemingly boundless energy. Their congress was frenetic. She holding to him with a desperate need and he responding with gentle fervor. Again and again they clung together until exhaustion claimed them both and they sank in one anothers arms in sleep.

When he'd woken she'd been gone, leaving behind only a note.

_Haggis,_

_My time with you has been some of the best in my memory. You've reminded me what it is to care for another and what it is to be a woman in love. Thank you for your kindness and affection._

_With love,_

_R.F. Xoxo_

The note was doubly signed with those initials and a bright red lip print where she'd kissed the paper.

He'd folded the note and carried it in his wallet the rest of his days, always hoping to meet her again some day though he never did.

He would never know that she'd held her love for him close to her heart. That she'd checked in on him, now and again, from afar. That she'd always wished he'd find another, fall in love, and live in wedded bliss or that when he did she'd wished the woman he'd married could have been her. He would never know that she'd left him to protect him and that though she'd had lovers after him none of them had ever mattered as much to her. He would never know that she'd stood on the fringes of the crowd of mourners at his funeral, an old woman by then, and that after the others had gone she'd left a single rose upon his headstone with a note bearing only her initials and a red lip print...a lip print which matched the one she'd left on the polished stone itself as she'd said her goodbyes and disappeared once more.

**THE END**

*****'*****

_Haggis appeared in season one episode six of _**The Suite Life On Deck**. _He was one of the ship's engineers. He was portrayed by Steve Monroe._

_Red Finger appeared in season two episode one of _**The Suite Life On Deck**. _She was a spy, of sorts, on a mission aboard the ship. She was played by Sara Erikson._


	13. Snapplelinz III

_A/N: This is a oneshot for the superhero in all of you ;)_

**Bossy Pants and Scaredy Cat: The Dynamic Duo**

By Snapplelinz

*****'*****

_**By day, they're just two ordinary girls living together and trying to pass their classes at college…**_

"I got an A on my Art History test!" Barbara called out upon entering the tiny two-room apartment.

"Awesome! I got an A+++ on my Chemistry lab!" Harper exclaimed while straining pasta in a colander.

"Harper, I've told you a thousand times not to leave your creations all over the living room sofa!" Barbara snapped, holding up yet another bizarre-looking hat that Harper had made in her spare time.

"It's not all over the living room sofa, it's on the coffee table," Harper said with dignity with adding a little more garlic to the creamy sauce simmering on the stove top. "All your negativity is hampering my creative process," she sniffed.

"I'm not being negative, I'm just trying to be tidy." Barbara protested in a huff.

"You're bossy!"

"No I'm not! You're just messy!"

"Why do you always have to speak your mind, Barbara?"

"At least I can speak my mind, Miss Passive Aggressive!"

"Hey, that's a real problem unlike your problem with the thermostat being one temperature higher than normal."

"Oh yeah, well why don't you just shove the thermostat right up your…"

_**But by night, they come together to form the dynamic duo of…**_

**BOSSY PANTS AND SCAREDY CAT!**

_Bossy Pants and Scaredy Cat_

_They save the world with a kick and a smack_

_Criminals beware, you don't stand a chance_

_When you're up AGAINST…_

_BOSSY PANTS AND SCAREDY CAAAAAT!_

"Hurry up, man. We don't have all night." A man in a balaclava hissed impatiently, shining a flash light around the empty jewellery store.

"Quit your belly-achin', I'm almost finished." Another man grunted, having made a neat and circular hole in a pane of glass.

Gingerly, he removed a set of glittering diamond necklaces and red rubies bigger than a baseball from its display case.

The first man holding the flash light scurried over to his partner, his green eyes shining with greedy happiness. "Would you get a load at those babies? They're huge!"

"See? I told you this would work!" the second burglar exclaimed. "We got in without tripping the alarm. We got the loot, and soon we'll be stinkin' rich with no one to stop us!"

"I wouldn't count on that!" A third voice rang out clearly and decisively.

The two small-time burglars wheeled around on their heels and stared aghast at the two women in costume standing at the entrance to the jewellery store.

"Bossy Pants and Scaredy Cat!" The first burglar screeched in astonished rage.

_Bossy Pants and Scaredy Cat_

_They save the world with a kick and a smack_

_Criminals beware, you don't stand a chance_

_When you're up AGAINST…_

_BOSSY PANTS AND SCAREDY CAAAAAT!_

Sure enough, Barbara and Harper had arrived on the scene when their Hero Clock went haywire 20 minutes ago, alerting them to the fact that a crime was in progress in Boston.

Barbara wore a black leather jumpsuit with hefty black wedges on her feet and a shiny black belt around the middle. A hexagonal shape was printed onto the front of her costume with the letters 'BP' emblazoned in gold in the middle. To complete the picture, she had covered her eyes with a black Robin-esque mask.

Harper's costume on the other hand, was a little less conservative than Barbara's.

She was sporting yellow rubber boots on her feet, black tights, a bright yellow skirt, a long-sleeved skin tight shirt with 'SC' emblazoned in black in a hexagon across her chest.

Unlike her partner, she had decided to cover her face, but with a mask that Barbara personally wouldn't have chosen or anyone else on the planet.

"Sorry to rain on your parade, boys. But you're not going anywhere." Barbara declared in a haughty tone, her hands on her hips.

"Say, what's with the paper bag?" the second burglar asked in confusion, pointing at Harper's head.

Sure enough, she was wearing a paper bag over her head with holes cut into the front so she could see.

"It helps me get over my stage fright when I'm fighting crime!" Harper squeaked back through the brown paper covering her face.

"Harper, you seriously need to get over this phobia of yours," Barbara remarked in exasperation.

"Well, excuse me for having issues! Not all of us can be confident and bossy like you!" Harper snapped defensively.

"Hey, I am not bossy! I'm assertive! You're just…neurotic!"

"Bossy!"

"Neurotic!"

"Bossy!"

"Neurotic!"

"Well, ladies. We hate to love and leave you. But…"

Without warning, the first burglar pushed a display of pamphlets over, knocking both Barbara and Harper to the ground.

"We've got places to be. Come on, man!"

The two burglars scrambled rapidly out of the jewellery store with their loot in a brown bag.

"They're getting away! Come on!" Barbara barked.

Both she and Harper pushed the hefty display off of their bodies and sprinted after the two crooks, who were running down the street. Barbara was in hot pursuit of Burglar # 1 while Harper ran after Burglar #2.

"Plan of action: make him stumble, a few karate moves, then tie him up." Harper recited to herself, reaching for a strange-looking rifle sticking out of a holster on her side.

It wasn't really a rifle at all, but a long gun that shot out banana peels at unsuspecting people, particularly criminals.

Once she took aim, Harper pressed a button and a banana peel went sailing into the air over the burglar's head and in front of him. Before he could side-step it, Burglar # 2 slipped on the banana peel and fell with a loud thud onto the metal cover of a man-hole.

Just when Harper caught up with him and was about to lay the smack-down on him, she realised that he must've hit his head on the man-hole and knocked himself unconscious.

"Oops, no need for plan of action numero dos after all." Harper declared with a sheepish grin, tying the burglar's hands with some rope.

Barbara in the meanwhile had caught up with her man and tackled him to the ground, knocking the bag of stolen jewellery out of his hand.

Burglar # 1 aimed a hard kick at Barbara's stomach, causing her to land on her back. She recovered quickly, doing a well-practised back-flip and landing on her feet with all the grace of an experienced acrobat.

The burglar got to his feet and began warding off Barbara's kicks and jabs with his open palms. Finally, Barbara found his weak spot, aiming a low kick at the burglar's knee cap. The man whined in pain, dropping to his knees and Barbara punched him in the face.

But while Barbara was distracted, the burglar did a sweeping kick with his uninjured leg, sending the dark-haired hero sprawling onto her back again.

"Nobody makes me bleed my own blood!" the first burglar yelled menacingly, picking up a stray garbage can and preparing to hit Barbara with it.

Suddenly, a loud clang sounded behind him and Burglar #1 toppled over onto his stomach. Harper emerged in front of Barbara, clutching a garbage can of her own.

"I could've taken him, you know." Barbara griped in spite of herself.

"You're welcome," Harper replied dryly, stooping to help her partner to her feet.

Barbara took Harper's hand and got to her feet, a begrudgingly grateful smile on her face.

A few minutes later, the cops arrived. They handcuffed the would-be jewel thieves and dragged them kicking and screaming into the paddy-wagon.

"We were almost rich!" Burglar # 2 wailed miserably, real tears forming in his eyes.

"Sorry, losers. But the only commodity you two are gonna be dealing with in jail are cigarettes." Barbara responded matter-of-factly.

"Officers, please take me away! I can't take any more of her lame 'hero' quips." Burglar # 1 begged of the cops dragging him away.

"He's got a point. You need to stop with the lame puns, Barb." Harper added, causing Barbara to glare at her in turn as the cop cars drove away.

After stopping several robberies and even preventing Zack Martin, (the newly-elected mayor) from being assassinated by a former yo-yo champion with an axe to grind, all was quiet again in the city of Boston.

Until Harper and Barbara were having lunch in their apartment and their Hero Clock's siren began sounding off.

"Aargh, we need to change the tone on that clock! It's giving me a migraine!" Barbara protested, clapping her hands over her ears.

Harper jogged to the Hero Clock just as a memo shot out of a printer attached to it. She read the contents and her face paled in horror.

"What is it?" Barbara asked worriedly, seeing the look on Harper's face.

"It's a memo from Maddie. London Tipton and Bailey Pickett have just been kidnapped while they were attending the Peace Summit downtown. The DA's office just got a ransom note from someone calling himself 'Big Brain'. He's holding Bailey Pickett and London Tipton hostage because he wants to get his hands on the Tipton Shrink Ray!"

"Wilfred Tipton made a shrink ray? What will that rich dumbass think of next?" Barbara asked in a glib tone.

"Not the point. Big Brain's at City Hall. We need to get down there!" Harper barked.

"Ok, fine. Let's go. You'd better bring your paper bag with you. This thing could get real ugly real quick." Barbara replied grimly as she and Harper exited their apartment.

After sprinting towards the Hero Mobile, a tricked out black Sedan, Barbara floored it, her boot-clad foot nearly crashing through the floor as she and Harper sped through the streets of Boston.

City Hall was in complete pandemonium, people running everywhere like headless chicken, screaming at the top of their voices.

"Everybody, remain calm!" Zack Martin, the mayor, bellowed through his microphone.

He'd been in the middle of giving Rat Man a key to the city when all hell had broken loose.

Shards of glass cracked and fell out of windows and black smoke curled out of every crevice at the same time as several fire hydrants exploded, water spraying everything and everyone in sight.

"I need everyone to exit in an orderly fashion!" Zack continued. "There is absolutely nothing to be afraid of-"

Without warning, a giant ball of fire whizzed past him, narrowly missing his face as it crashed into a statue of his own likeness just behind him.

"Run! Every man for himself!" Zack shrieked, shoving past a woman pushing baby in a pram as he ducked for cover.

"Holy Shitake mushrooms!" Harper exclaimed, her eyes widening in horror at their surroundings.

"Look over there!" Barbara called out, pointing towards a strange object in the sky.

Both heroes' eyes were trained on the black shape hovering above their heads.

The closer it came to touching the ground, the more they realised that it was an aircraft of some sorts.

But it wasn't like any plane they'd ever seen before; it certainly didn't look like anything the government or the military owned.

It was made of some shiny metallic silver metal which resembled mercury. Its powerful wings were shaped like that of a bird of prey, curved inwards in a half-triangle on either side. Three massive rubber wheels emerged from an opening at the bottom and touched down on the ground with a loud thump, coming to a screeching halt.

Something like a sun roof opened at the top of an aircraft and an abnormally large head emerged from it, encompassed in a cloud of smoke.

"Oh my God, it's an alien!" Harper shrieked without thinking.

"Don't be stupid, Harper. It must be Big Brain." Barbara snapped impatiently.

"Look, he's got Bailey Pickett and London Tipton!" a passerby called out.

Sure enough, the renowned winner of 12 Nobel Peace Prizes and the notorious hotel heiress were strapped into chairs inside the aircraft, tied up and squirming in their seats.

"This is just ridiculous!" London snapped waspishly. "I knew I should've gone shopping in Paris instead of attending some poor people's convention!" she added derisively, trying in vain to break free from the ropes.

"It wasn't a poor people's convention! The mayor was about to give Rat Man a key to the city!" Bailey exploded, already sick to death of the spoilt heiress' pointless comments. "It's a really prestigious honour."

"Please! No one actually believes that Rat Man is a real super hero. The guy parades around in grey Spandex and eats gourmet cheese all day. He's a grade-A freak show." London concluded snidely.

The man with the abnormally big head exited the strange ship.

He was a young man in his early twenties, who walked along the makeshift tarmac with a confident swagger about him.

He was dressed from head to toe in a bright green jump suit with a black belt around the middle and a black cape wafting gently in the Boston breeze. He was clad in hefty black combat boots and wearing what appeared to be elbow-length black gloves on his hands. And perched on top of his head was the oddest headdress that any super villain could hope to conjure up: an enormous pink brain with black and purple veins protruding from every indentation.

A gasp escaped Barbara's lips when she recognised the ghost of a smirk forming on his maniacal cheek bones.

"Cody?" she questioned disbelievingly.

"You know him?" Harper asked of her partner in astonishment.

"Citizens of Boston!" Big Brain called out, his hands raised high in the air. "Do not be alarmed. I have not come here to harm you. But should you choose to get in the way of my plans, you will be very sorry." He added as a warning.

"Whatever you want here, no one else has to get hurt. Let Bailey Pickett and London Tipton go!" Barbara commanded savagely.

The villain finally acknowledged the presence of the two newcomers, his eyebrow arched into a quizzical frown.

"And who might you two be?" he asked sardonically of the raven-haired beauty and her feisty red-head sidekick.

"We're Scaredy Cat and Bossy Pants. Or…the other way around." Harper began awkwardly.

"Hmm, I don't remember dating you," Cody noted with a sardonic smile while looking at Harper. "But how could I ever forget celebrating Hanukah with you, Barbara?" \He asked with the ghost of a seedy smirk on his face.

"Big Brain is Jewish?" Harper asked in an aside.

"No, I'm Jewish! Harper, keep up! We have to take him down!" Barbara shot back.

"Fools! You can't stop me! I am invincible!" Cody thundered superciliously in a booming voice.

Without warning, a crash sounded in the ears of all present.

Barbara and Harper dived to safety just in time as a massive object came hurtling through the sky. However, it rapidly decreased its speed the closer it got to Big Brain.

With his hand stretched forward, it looked like the villain was trying to summon the strange object to him, as if he could control it.

"With the powerful magnet in the recesses of my brain-shaped helmet, I have finally obtained what I wanted all along: the Tipton Shrink Ray. Now nothing can stop me!" Cody roared jubilantly.

"Seriously, you made a helmet out of a real brain? That's repulsive!" Harper shrieked indignantly out of nowhere.

"Keep your paper bag on, it's not a real brain!" Cody shot back impatiently. "I made it out of paper mache. And it's not supposed to be a human brain, it's a bird brain ten times its normal size. That'll teach those pesky seagulls not to mess with me!" he added with irrepressible triumph.

"Wow, this guy is nuttier than peanut brittle." Harper murmured in an aside to her partner.

"Tell me about it. The saddest part is that I used to date him." Barbara retorted painstakingly.

"You dated him? Oh, that's just sick and wrong." Harper retorted with a grimace.

"Make all the jokes you want. We'll soon see who laughs the hardest when I unleash the Tipton Shrink Ray onto the world population, making every human being the size of a colony of ants. Then no one will ever pick on me or pants me ever again!" Cody shrieked, his gloved hands balled into fists.

"That's it! You need to stop this right now, Cody…Big Brain – whatever name you go by these days! Let's get him, Harper!" Barbara called out.

She retrieved a stun gun from a holster around her waist while Harper did the same, removing a stun gun from a holster on her ankle.

Then the two heroes sprinted forward, their eyes locked on Big Brain as they prepared to attack.

Cody stood his ground however, a triumphant grin etched on his face.

"Look out!" Bailey yelled in warning.

But it was too late as a translucent beam of light encircled the heroes, the villain and his captives, enveloping them in an electricity-filled bubble.

The minute that Barbara and Harper came into contact with the barrier, it crackled loudly and reared back, as if it were regurgitating the very essence of its terrifying power.

Like a massive tidal wave, it gathered Bossy Pants and Scaredy Cat like two giant hands and threw them backwards.

When Harper and Barbara came to a few seconds later, the damage was already done.

The aircraft was slowly rising up in the air in a cloud of smoke, Big Brain piloting it with graceful precision.

And now he had the renowned celebrities and the notorious shrink-ray in his possession.

Our two super heroes watched in dismay as the aircraft grew smaller and smaller as it passed several skyscrapers before vanishing in the blink of an eye.

Downtown Boston was a hive of activity as fire fighters and policemen did their best to pull people out of the wreckage of the initial explosion and put out the amber flames pouring out of every crevice imaginable.

"This is Serge Dusoleil, reporting to you live from the city centre, at the scene of what can best be described as an attack of epic proportions." An African-American woman in her early thirties began soberly, a microphone in her hand.

"While we have been introduced to the super villain known only as Big Brain, it is unclear what he hopes to achieve by kidnapping Nobel Peace Prize winner, Bailey Pickett and Fashion It girl, London Tipton. Now are we closer to knowing how he will wreck further havoc on the city of Boston in the coming days with the theft of the infamous Tipton Shrink Ray…"

After being attended to by a paramedic on the scene, Barbara and Harper returned to their tiny apartment.

Aside from a few cuts and scrapes, they were miraculously unscathed.

However, that did nothing to abate the crushing sensation of despair that seeped through their very skin.

"He was playing us from minute one." Barbara began soberly, referring to Big Brain while Harper fixed them both a stiff drink. "He knew we would try to attack him all along."

"I don't understand why we didn't know Big Brain had a protective shield around him and his ship. My hyper-sensitive radio transmitter should've picked up a frequency." Harper stated in bewilderment.

"Maybe your transmitter's malfunctioning." Barbara suggested, sipping precariously on her glass of brandy to steady her nerves.

"No it isn't, it's working perfectly. We're missing something, I just know it." Harper protested in a stubborn voice, smacking her fist against her open palm.

"Face facts, Harper. We failed. Nothing will penetrate that force field." Barbara declared in a morose tone.

"Oh my God, that's it!" Harper piped up unexpectedly.

"What are you babbling about now?"

"I think I just figured out why we weren't able to penetrate Big Brain's force-field. Normal technology can't penetrate it."

"Yeah, I kinda figured after we didn't get through."

"No, you don't get it. Normal technology is useless against it because it's a magical force-field!"

"Wait, are you sure?" Barbara demanded, her eyes widening in surprise.

"It's the only explanation. Human technology like my transmitter wouldn't work on it, because it's using a supernatural frequency." Harper replied pensively.

Barbara sat upright in her chair. "Of course, I'm such an idiot. It totally adds up! But how did Cody get hold of that kind of power?"

"He must've made a deal with a witch or a warlock."

"It sounds like him. But how are we going to find out for sure?"

A wide smile crossed Harper's face. "I think I know just the person to ask."

"Are you sure this is the right place?" Barbara asked suspiciously.

Her apprehension wasn't unfounded.

The building they'd just entered was dilapidated and reeked of sweat and rat manure. Having made use of Harper's teleportation device, Bossy Pants and Scaredy Cat had sped towards New York City in a matter of seconds.

Harper had led the way through a series of back alleys in China Town until they'd stepped into this rancid excuse for an apartment block near Waverly Place.

"Trust me, this is the right place." Harper answered evenly.

She knocked four times on the door in a rhythmic pattern and waited.

Suddenly, a gravelly voice piped up from the other side of the door: "Password?"

"Edgebonoutwosis." Harper murmured.

"Good guess, but I was thinking of a different spell. Like…sarahpalinmooseimpersonatus."

"Alex, we don't have time for this! Would you just open the door already?!" Harper bellowed.

With a loud sigh, several chains rattled in close proximity and the front door of Apartment 26 opened.

A Latina-looking young woman stood in the doorway, dressed in a pair of ripped blue jeans and an off-the-shoulder black top that showed off her supple and tanned shoulder blade. Her long black hair hung carelessly over her shoulders and a wicked smile was painted onto her red lips while she stared mischievously at Bossy Pants and Scaredy Cat.

"Ok, so that spell doesn't really exist. But how cool would that be?" Alex asked happily. "Now get over here and give your oldest friend some love. But no long hugs!"

Harper rolled her eyes and smiled as she embraced her oldest friend. "It's good to see you too, Alex." She whispered in the brunette's ear.

"You too, Harper. Still fighting crime, I see." Alex noted with a nod in Barbara's direction.

"Pretty much." Harper responded evenly.

"Seriously, what did you think of my 'old-man-hobo' impression? Pretty good, huh?" Alex persisted with a pleased smile on her face.

"Alex, could you be serious for a second? We need your help." Harper cut in impatiently.

"If you need my help, then things must be pretty bad." Alex acknowledged.

She opened the door wider and let the heroes through, locking it behind her.

"Is it possible for a super villain to make a deal with a witch or a warlock to procure magic for himself or at least to obtain a supernatural force-field?"

"Depends on who the super villain is," Alex answered in a non-committal tone while shaking a magic 8-ball.

"We think Big Brain knows a warlock or two." Barbara declared without beating about the bush.

Alex whistled appreciatively at this piece of news. "In that case, I'd say it's very possible. His alias pretty much tells us that."

"Who did he make a deal with? Have you heard anything on your end?" Harper questioned of her oldest friend.

"I may have heard a rumour or two through the Wizards Council about Big Brain getting cosy with a warlock named Kimmel. Kimmel was never great at spell work; however, he did have an uncanny knack for making force fields out of pretty much any material he could find. If Big Brain's teamed up with Kimmel, then you have a big problem." Alex stated in a grim tone.

"There has to be a way to shut down Kimmel's force field. Alex, what kind of frequency would you use to keep a force field like that stable for long periods of time?"

"It can't be any old frequency. Every force field has a powerful charm or spell bolstering its power. Now if you had a witch or warlock on your side who could figure out which spell Big Brain's using-"

Alex stopped short when Harper and Barbara began looking at her with wide smiles.

"No, uh uh, no way! I am not doing the whole super-hero thing and interrupting my busy schedule of doing absolutely nothing all day long!" Alex protested heatedly, backing away from the two heroes.

"Please, Alex. You have to help us. You're the only one who can." Harper pleaded.

"Well, that's true." Alex agreed with a smug chuckle.

"Will you do it for an old friend?" Harper asked with puppy-dog eyes.

Alex rolled her eyes and groaned loudly. "Urgh, fine! I'll help you take down Bird Brain or whoever the hell this is. But you are never allowed to use that excuse of us being 'old friends' ever again, Harper." Alex conceded reluctantly.

Harper squealed happily and began clapping her hands together.

Then she stepped towards Barbara and Alex and threw her arms around their shoulders. "This is gonna be so great! We could be 'The Three Musketeers'!"

"Are you as thrilled about this as I am?" Alex asked sarcastically of Barbara.

"I'm positively ecstatic." Barbara countered wearily.

A reluctant Alex Russo travelled with Barbara and Harper back to Boston.

And so their secret work began.

While the two heroines got to work on building more impressive weaponry to tackle Big Brain, Alex spent the majority of her time sitting cross-legged on the hardwood living room floor.

With her middle fingers and thumbs pressed together on both hands, she concentrated pensively on the thing she most wanted to seek: the key to weakening the force field that Big Brain was currently using.

"What is she chanting?" Barbara asked Harper after several days of listening to Alex's strange murmured incantations.

"Oh nothing. She's just spouting out gibberish on purpose to mess with you." Harper explained with a knowing grin.

Is she always this facetious when she uses magic?" Barbara demanded in exasperation.

"Only when she can overhear a tight-assed heroine talking about her behind her back," came Alex's dry retort.

Barbara whipped around on the balls of her feet. Alex opened up her eyes and regarded the raven-haired girl with a mischievous grin.

"Don't look so surprised. Everyone with magic powers knows how to do a good eavesdropping spell." The feisty Latina declared without a hint of embarrassment etched in her tone.

"You could've warned me, you know." Barbara muttered in an undertone as she and Harper got back to building a high-tech rocket launcher.

"And miss the look on your face? I don't think so." Harper countered with a devilish grin.

Several hundred miles away and many feet below the ground of the illustrious Bay Area, a young man with locks of blonde hair paced frantically back and forth across a dimly lit floor.

He appeared to be in a control room of sorts with strange gadgets and millions of colourful buttons littering every surface of the four walls.

"You are really trying my patience, Ms. Pickett." Cody Martin, aka Big Brain, announced with mounting fury.

"Oh, so it's 'Ms Pickett' now?" Bailey shot back, thoroughly sick of the man before her.

"What are you two lunatics babbling about?" London piped up.

Both her and Bailey were strapped to metal chairs in Big Brain's control room while he interrogated them.

"Why have you brought me and London Tipton here?" Bailey demanded heatedly.

"Because, as much as I hate the fact that you've won more Nobel peace prizes than me, I need you to figure out how to work the shrink-ray. As for London, Wilfred Tipton will pay handsomely to get his daughter back. Then I'll have money to continue my research."

"Seriously, you're nuttier than peanut brittle." London retorted drolly at Cody.

"I won't do it." Bailey persisted stubbornly.

"If you don't help me, I'll kill Ms. Tipton right now." Cody growled, placing a hand on the edge of London's chair.

"Meh, there are enough dumb heiresses in the world."

"Hey!" London protested indignantly, scowling at Bailey.

"Either do what I say or Porkers becomes 1/3 of a BLT!" Cody threatened with a growl.

"No, anything but that!" Bailey pleaded. "Fine, I'll do it." She complied in resignation.

"I knew we'd come to an understanding." Cody replied with a smug smile on his face.

He untied Bailey from the chair and grabbed hold of her arm, dragging her towards a metal table in the centre of the room.

Bailey shrugged out of Cody's grasp with an impatient air and sat down sulkily in the chair that he indicated to her.

"Suit yourself," Cody remarked.

He tossed a stack of papers stapled together and a large blueprint and slid them across till they landed in front of Bailey.

"What about me?" London demanded, still wriggling against her tightly bound hands. "Can I get some caviar and a warm towel?"

Cody ignored the heiress and swung around on the balls of his feet.

"You'd better get cracking, Ms. Pickett. Daddy wants to use his new Shrink-Ray on the Boston public tomorrow." Was all that he said to Bailey before exiting the room.

After several gruelling days of non-stop work and activity, Bossy Pants and Scaredy Cat were finally ready.

Alex on the other hand, was positively benign and placid, considering they were about to confront Big Brain.

She chomped away on a tuna sandwich while Barbara and Harper got dressed into their costumes.

Just as Harper was about to grab the brown paper bag, Barbara grabbed hold of her hand. "Leave it behind." She commanded gently.

"But Barbara, I'm really freaking out here. If we fail-"

"Then we fail together. Harper, you're one of the smartest and bravest people I know. You don't need to hide it." Barbara declared with sincerity.

"Wow, Barb. That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me." Harper gushed before embracing her partner in a long embrace.

"Is it just me or this apartment suddenly way too much like an 'after-school-special'?" Alex questioned, thoroughly disgusted by this open display of affection.

"Are you ready?" Barbara asked seriously once she and Harper had disentangled themselves.

Harper nodded rapidly, smiling brightly from end. "Yeah. Let's do this."

"Alex! Are you coming?" Barbara called out as she and Harper got to the door.

"But I was just about to finish…oh, forget it." Alex snapped grouchily.

She tossed the tuna sandwich down onto the coffee table and begrudgingly followed after our two heroines.

People were running to and fro, screaming wildly and fearfully.

Big Brain had struck again.

Only this time, he had chosen the highest skyscraper in Boston as his vantage point to launch his newly acquired Shrink-Wrap.

Once again, Bailey and London stood near him on the roof, watching in dismay as he switched the Shrink-Ray on.

The sound emitted from the device was a mesh of helicopters whirring and a washing machine on a spin cycle.

"Oh, this is bad." Harper breathed sharply, watching the desolation before her with a mesh of horror and awe.

The heroes and their unwilling sidekick were currently scouring the city in a helicopter they borrowed from an old military friend, keeping a look-out for Big Brain.

Barbara grabbed a pair of binoculars and honed on a lone figure in the middle of the street.

"Stand aside, Villain!" The booming voice ordered.

Barbara, Harper and Alex looked down and saw a man dressed in a rat costume shaking a fist at the skyscraper where Cody stood.

"Stop your villainy you….villain." Rat man barked hotly. "Or so help me, I will-"

A thin red beam shot spontaneously out of the Shrink-Ray and ricocheted onto Rat Man, which reduced him to the size of a microscopic entity.

"Help, I'm a midget! HELP!" The man formerly known as Woody Fink shrieked in a high-pitched voice while people around him continued screaming.

Having heard that Big Brain had struck again, he'd come in the hopes that he could be of some assistance to those trying to defend the city against their most treacherous villain.

But now that he was the size of an actual rat, he was unlikely to be of help to himself.

"Ladies and gentleman, this is positively astounding!" Serge Dusoleil exclaimed, gripping the microphone tightly in her hand.

"Rat Man has just shrunk to the size of a rodent right before my very eyes! Big Brain is attempting to reduce the city's population to a height that can only be appreciated by cats!"

As another red bolt shot past, the frightened rat-sized Rat Man sped away through the stampede of scared citizens.

"Cody, you have to stop this madness!" Bailey pleaded wretchedly. "You're messing with innocent people!"

"They should've all thought about that before they mocked me and taunted me for years!" Cody roared with a vengeance.

His face was painted with a manic smile as he surveyed the destruction that he had caused.

"Oh no! What is that idiot doing?" Barbara asked in annoyance.

She spotted the mayor in a helicopter circling the roof close by where Cody stood. With his luscious hair blowing in the wind, Zack pulled out a bullhorn and began addressing his younger brother in close proximity.

"Cody! As your older brother by a few minutes and mayor of this fair city, I demand you to stand down now!" He called out.

"What are you gonna do if I don't listen? Give me a wedgie?" Cody jeered derisively.

"As mayor, I can have you arrested." Zack replied in a grim tone.

"Arrest this!" Cody yelled and fired a gun at Zack.

But it wasn't an ordinary gun that spewed out silver bullets from its chamber.

It was a more of a ray gun that shot out blue waves, which hit Zack right on the head.

Without warning, all of the mayor's hair disappeared and he was rendered bald.

Feeling a cold breeze overhead, Zack gingerly ran his hands over the top of his head.

When he realised the truth, he began wailing like a little girl.

"My hair! My beautiful hair! It took me 10 years to get it at just the right length! And now it's all gone. I'm a mutant, MUTANT!" Zack sobbed painstakingly.

"Wow, that is not pretty." Alex remarked sympathetically.

"You see what happens to people who cross me?" Cody fumed, rounding on his two scared hostages. "Resistance is futile. No one can stop me."

"Guess again, Big Brain." Barbara called out.

"Who said that?" Cody demanded, whipping around.

"Your worst nightmare," Harper answered with a devilish smile.

_Bossy Pants and Scaredy Cat_

_They save the world with a kick and a smack_

_Criminals beware, you don't stand a chance_

_When you're up against…_

_BOSSY PANTS AND SCAREDY CAAAAAT!_

Cody stared in astonishment at the two heroines standing in front of him, their hands raised in combat fashion.

"Oh, not you two again," Cody moaned in exasperation. "Seriously, who writes your jingles? A deaf cat? That's the worst thing since 'Retainer Baby' went platinum!"

"Hey, that was a classic!" Alex retorted.

Everyone in the near vicinity looked at her in confusion.

"What, I can't like Lil' Little? At least I wasn't one of those freaks who used to sleep on top of him every night." Alex quipped with a shudder.

"Aww, enough with the lame trash talk!" London piped up irritably. "Would someone please kick his ass?" she questioned, pointing at Cody.

"Gladly," Barbara remarked and got into position.

"I'd like to see you try," Cody sneered. "Kimmel! Show them what true power means!"

"Seriously, you need better comebacks," Kimmel declared in a bored voice.

Nevertheless, he raised his hands and began mumbling an incantation which sounded a lot like 'Mama say, mama san, mamaku san! Mama say, mama san, mamaku san!"

"Now, Alex!" Harper ordered in an urgent voice.

Alex rolled her eyes and took out her wand from her back pocket.

Harper whipped out her trusty transmitter and began using the codes that Alex had given her, hoping to de-activate the force field standing between them and Big Brain.

"Stay back, young witch! My powers are greater than yours." Kimmel declared solemnly.

Barbara gulped nervously at the bolt of lightning which lit up his hands with luminous red.

Alex sighed and shook her hand patronisingly. "This one's for you, Michael Jackson."

She flicked her wand high above her head and twisted her wrist in a clockwise direction, saying, "Like an egg, I will beat it. And soon my foe will be defeated!"

Something resembling a translucent hand reared and smacked Kimmel sharply in the face, sending him careening onto his back.

"You pimp slapped me? Really?!" Kimmel hissed furiously, the whole of his left cheek embossed with a red-shaped hand print.

"Hey, if you wanna do the crime…you'll get slapped in the face." Alex deadpanned.

"Yes! I found the frequency!" Harper yelled exuberantly.

"Great! You mind shutting it down now! I've kinda got my hands full here!" Barbara shot back.

She was currently trying to take down five masked villains in turn as they all attacked her one by one. She spun and swung around, aiming a powerful kick and a swipe of her fist at the nearest attacker, sending him crashing backwards into another masked foe. She ducked just in time as another came at her, performing a majestic sweeping kick and sending him onto his back.

While the fight happened all around her, Harper frantically pressed the buttons on her transmitter, praying to the heavens above that Alex's hunch was correct.

With a merry beep, a green light appeared on the hand-held device.

"Yes! The force field's down!" Harper crowed happily.

"Kimmel, you idiot! How could you let yourself be outsmarted by a Muggle?" Cody roared at his sidekick.

"Sometimes, Magic is your friend. Sometimes it ain't. What are ya gonna do?" Kimmel asked with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Get him!" Barbara called out.

She took off at an amazing pace, wanting desperately to get at Cody.

But Big Brain was far from through.

He whipped out another gun from a holster around his ankle and aimed it at Bossy Pants.

The force of the shot threw the heroine off of her feet and she landed with a thud onto her stomach.

"NOOOOOOOOOOO!" Harper screamed in dismay.

She dropped the transmitter with a clang and rushed towards the friend, followed closely by Alex.

Barbara was trying to raise herself up by her elbows, groaning dismally all the while.

"Are you hurt?" Harper asked in alarm as she knelt next to her partner.

"No, but the fail…so strong. I could still die of shame." Barbara murmured weakly.

"No! I won't let you die of shame or something way worse than that: natural causes!" Harper sobbed, tears rolling down her cheeks like diamonds.

"Fools! Are you ready to give up? Or would you like to suffer some more?" Cody questioned with the air of someone winning the lottery.

"You're the one who's gonna suffer, Bird Brain!" Alex called out sharply, raising her wand at the villain.

"For the last time, it's Big Brain! I made the helmet out of bird brains!" Cody protested savagely.

He had turned away from Harper and Barbara and prepared to fend off Alex's attack.

Harper looked between him and her best friend, who could be killed any second.

With the future of mankind hanging in the balance, she did the only thing she could think of in the moment.

She came up swiftly behind Cody and pants-ed Cody.

One of the evillest villains known to the world now stood with his pants around his knobbly ankles, exposing his brightly coloured boxers underneath.

"Nooooooo! WHHHHHYYYY!" Cody wailed.

"Oh my God, are those Share Bears?" Barbara asked in alarm, referring to the print on the silky shorts.

"Oh, the humanity! Oh, the shame!" Cody sobbed, real tears flowing from his eyes while he clutched his hair in his hands.

"This is so much better than paid-per-view." London declared eagerly.

At that moment, a helicopter landed on the roof, blowing up wind in everyone's faces. A very bald Zack Martin climbed out along with two policemen.

"There he is! That's the man who made me bald! I can't believe I'm related to this insufferable lunatic…" Zack murmured in alarm to himself.

"Big Brain, you're under arrest for threatening the lives of innocent civilians and destroying public property-"

"Yeah yeah, I know my rights. Just get me away from those two freaks and their stupid theme song." Cody interjected warily.

He let the two cops handcuff him quite readily and walked in-between them as they bundled him into the small helicopter.

"Harper, you were incredible! And I always thought you were above pantsing people." Alex remarked with a twinkle in her eye.

"All in a day's work," Harper responded with just a hint of smugness. "Seriously though, I couldn't have done it without you two."

She leant in and hugged a very awkward Alex and Barbara.

Harper gave Barbara a meaningful look, causing the raven-haired girl to sigh loudly. "Ok, I'll say it. Alex, you really helped me and Harper out today. We owe you big time."

"Does that mean I get anything I want?" Alex asked mischievously.

"Sure," Barbara answered uneasily.

"Awesome, I really want to finish my tuna sandwich; soaking bread in turkey grease is an inspired idea! I'll have to give Max his due credit for coming up with that." Alex stated more to herself.

"You got it!" Harper answered happily, slinging her arms around her two friends. "Let's go home."

"I could sure use some good old fashioned R&R right about now." Barbara declared, her bones stiff and aching.

"I've got an idea," Alex stated mischievously. "Hey, Serge. Wanna join us for a girls' night in?"

"Well, I was gonna head back to the station and write up a report. Oh what the hell, my assistant can do it for me. I'll just take credit for it later! This is so fetch!" Kendra exclaimed whole clapping his hands eagerly.

He followed closely behind the three women as they hopped into the Hero Mobile.

An hour later, the three women and Serge were clad in bikinis (Serge was wearing his boxers) and chilling out in a hot tub that Alex had conjured up out of thin air.

They were laughing amiably together and clinking flutes of champagne together merrily.

"Here's to a good day of fighting crime and putting the bad guy behind bars." Barbara declared in jaunty fashion.

"Here here!" Harper agreed, clinking her glass against her partners.

"To Bossy Pants and Scaredy Cats: may you always be on the side of right. And may you someday come up with better hero names and jingles!" Alex chimed in, causing everyone to laugh heartily.

"You work so well together as a unit." Serge praised sincerely, eyeing Barbara and Harper speculatively.

"Well, we've known each other a long time."

"That's so wonderful. So tell me: when did you realise that you were strongly attracted to each other?" The reporter asked promptly.

"Say what?!" Barbara exclaimed in astonishment.

"Your chemistry is just so natural and fringed with so much sexual tension-"

"Sexual what-now?" Harper demanded in a squeaky voice, her throat feeling strangely constricted.

"It must be difficult balancing time between being full-time students, full-time heroines and full-time lovers."

"Whoa! Back up there, Mr. Cirque du Soleil!"

"It's Serge."

"Whatever! Harper and I are not a couple!" Barbara spat out, getting ready to exit the hot tub.

"Are you sure?" Serge asked, scrunching up her face in confusion.

"Uh, yeah I am!" Barbara snapped. "There is no way in hell I'd ever hook up with Harper." She scoffed.

Now it was Harper's turn to stare. "What's that supposed to mean? Are you implying that I'm not hot enough to attract someone like you?"

"Harper, don't be ridiculous, that's not what I meant! It's just that we have different interests and styles-"

"Oh, so I'm not good enough to be your shameful secret?" Harper huffed.

"Shameless secret? It's not true!" Barbara retorted.

"For your information, I could bag a hot chick or two!" Harper fumed, pointing an accusing finger at Barbara. "Do you know how many offers I've gotten from gorgeous girls to 'help tutor them'? You wish you could get with me!" she concluded in a smug tone.

"Please! You wish I'd be crazy enough to get with you!" Barbara retorted heatedly.

"Nothing there huh? Pfft, yeah right!" Alex declared while she and Serge chuckled amongst themselves at the two heroines bickering with one another.

And so once again, peace reigned supreme in the city of Boston and our two heroines saved the day yet again.

Zack Martin ran for a second term of office as mayor and was subsequently re-elected. Losing his great hairline and his overall vanity made him a much more dedicated and well-liked mayor. He even made great strides in making Boston a safer city to live in.

Cody, aka Big Brain, was tried and convicted of 47 accounts of larceny, robbery and pantsing and sentenced to 10 years imprisonment at a institution established by former super model, Cindy Cannon. However, he left prison after 5 years of good behaviour and went to rehab for a short stint and became being a law-abiding citizen once more.

He devoted the rest of his days to scientific research which would be beneficial to mankind in the near future. And he was helped in his exploits by one Bailey Pickett, who was the main cause of his rehabilitation from a life of crime. They rekindled their former romance once again and the love of his life helped him win more Nobel Peace Prizes than even her own record.

After 2 years of intensive research and surgery, Rat Man was restored to his normal size again, just a few stones lighter. He gave up his hero status and devoted the remainder of his adult life to becoming the most recognised connoisseur of fine wine and gourmet cheese.

As for Barbara and Harper, they continued risking their lives on a regular basis to stop crime and make Boston a safer place to live. They continued their studies during the day, but at night…

_Bossy Pants and Scaredy Cat_

_They save the world with a kick and a smack_

_Criminals beware, you don't stand a chance_

_When you're up against…_

_BOSSY PANTS AND SCAREDY CAAAAAT!_

**THE END.**

_**A/N: **I hope you all enjoyed my parody of life as a super hero ;)_

_Barbara is played by the lovely Sophie Odo. She appears in several episodes of 'The Suite Life of Zack & Cody' and in one episode of 'Suite Life on Deck' called 'Flowers & Chocolate' (one of my personal favourites) as Bob's new girlfriend. _

_Harper Finkle is played by the lovely Jennifer Stone. She is renowned for her role as Alex Russo's kooky best friend in 'The Wizards of Waverly Place.' She made a brief appearance in 'Suite Life on Deck' in the Wizards, SLOD and Hannah Montana crossover. _

_Alex Russo plays herself in this bizarre tale of heroism and pantsing._

_And of course, the unfortunate Rat Man is none other than the twins SLOD friend, Woody :)_


	14. The lovely anomaly II

**Magic Tricks**

by

the-lovely-anomaly

She's wearing a black dress with white lace and fishnet stockings that compliment her finely tanned legs. Her hair is done up in an intricate bun, her face coated with exaggerated makeup—white foundation, cherry red lipstick, dark purple eye shadow, rosy blush. Monsieur Dubois said he wanted her to look as though she had popped out of a Tim Burton film. "I want her to have flair," he'd said. As it turns out, his idea of "flair" is an unbalanced, ghoulish look. I can't say I dislike it, though. Grace could make any look work.

That may sound cheesy, and I confess that it probably is (I've been hanging around Zack and his infamous cheesy pick-up lines way too long), but it is the absolute truth.

I watch her twirl around for Mr. Moseby's approval, a blank expression on her face as she does so, and my stomach tightens, the letter in my hand saying "Meet me in the basement after the show" crumbling in my fist. I feel like a spark plug. There's an electric current surging through me. Unstoppable energy. I'm going to tell her tonight.

I promised myself I would.

She catches me eyeing her. Raises an eyebrow. I smile and turn my head to the side, hoping she can't see how she's just made me blush.

"You ready, Esteban?" Carey comes up behind me and places her hand on my back. She's dressed in a spaghetti-strapped, robin's-egg blue dress that goes down to her ankles and a silver, diamond-studded necklace that makes her look far richer than she really is. She gives me an encouraging smile.

"As ready as I'll ever be," I tell her in my faux happy-go-lucky voice.

"That'a boy," she says. "Just remember not to open or close the curtains before you're supposed to. Timing is crucial."

She walks off, holding up the hem of her dress as she heads in the direction of the lounge.

I look back over to where Grace had been standing and see that she is no longer there.

I'm in the lobby surrounded by guests who are all shuffling towards the lounge, promised a "magical" evening.

"Estebaaan!" Mr. Moseby's aggravated voice calls.

"Coming!" I call back.

The show can't begin without its curtain boy.

…

I still haven't given her the note. It doesn't really matter, but nevertheless I want to smack myself. I'd promised myself that tonight would be the night—after all this time, I'd finally tell her. No more trailing her in the halls. No more scheduling work days that match hers. No more bumping into her on purpose and muttering feeble excuse me's, and asking her questions I already know the answers to. Just the truth.

It's when I climb the side stairs up to the stage that I realize I have to pee. But it's too late for me to nip to the bathroom. The show's about to start. I take my place by the ropes that open and close the curtains. From the corner of my eye, I see Grace standing next to Monsieur Dubois, her bare legs slightly trembling as though she has to pee too, which is more emotion than I have ever seen her display. "What if I forget my lines?" she asks him. "What if I trip and fall?"

He tilts her chin up with his forefinger. "Don't worry, _ma cherie_," he wheedles in his obviously-exaggerated French accent. "The trick is to not think about it. Act natural. Be your lovely self. So long as you do that, you will be perfect."

I roll my eyes. What a poser.

Why he even chose Grace to be his assistant in the first place is a mystery to me. Usually magicians come with their own assistants—people who know how the tricks work, and who are cut out for stage performance. Grace, as beautiful as she is, is not. In fact, that's one of the many reasons why I'm taken with her. She's not an attention hound. She prefers the periphery over the spotlight. She doesn't care enough about the spotlight to seek it.

Invisibility is her magic trick.

She gives a nod (although I can still see the uncertainty in her eyes) and then takes her place backstage, where she nearly disappears into the darkness.

The chatter outside quiets, and I hear Mr. Moseby and Carey thank everyone in the audience for coming. They tell scripted jokes and over-enunciate every work. It's annoying, but funny. And here they make fun of the way _I _talk.

They get one last laugh from the crowd, and then introduce Monsieur Dubois. That's my signal. I pull the rope that opens the curtains, revealing to the audience Monsieur Dubois standing in front of a medieval-looking chest with his arms outstretched, dressed in an outfit that makes him look like Count Dracula. He, too, thanks everyone for coming. And then he introduces Grace, and that's her signal. She walks to the front of the stage, slowly, and takes her place next to him. Ooh's and ahh's erupt from the crowd at the sight of her. She really does look like a Tim Burton character. Only lovelier.

I watch as she helps him perform his tricks. He starts with the simple ones, the ones everyone has seen a million times—pulling a multi-colored length of cloth seemingly out of nowhere, making a sphere disappear in one hand and reappear in the other, pulling a rabbit out of his hat after showing the inside of the hat to the audience—but then he gets a little more daring. He levitates himself off the stage floor. He has Grace draw a rose on a piece of paper and then fold the paper in half; after reciting an incantation, he pulls from inside the crease a real rose and then unfolds the paper and shows it to the audience to reveal that Grace's drawing is now gone. He draws from inside his cape a pistol and gives it to Grace. Then he takes six steps in the opposite direction, turns to face her, pulls out an apple—who knows where he kept that thing hidden?—places it on his head and tells her to shoot it off. Grace hesitates, her face going pale. She may not be the best at expressing her emotions, but even she would be terrified at the notion of killing someone. "I'm a terrible shot," she says, her usually monotone voice thick with fear.

"Well, then you better be careful," Monsieur Dubois tells her. Then he winks, the jackass.

Grace aims the gun. Half the people in the audience plug their ears. The other half grip the arms of their seats. She fires.

The apple explodes off Monsieur Dubois' head, transforming into a dove that flies away.

The crowd bursts into applause, stunned. I'm stunned too, though I'm too upset to show it. My attention goes to Grace, who is wiping her forehead with the back of her delicate hand and sighing in relief. I feel so sorry for her. I want to embrace her, tell her she was magnificent, kiss her cheek.

Monsieur Dubois wants Grace to disappear. He helps her into the medieval-looking chest, and then closes the lid. He says a spell, spins the chest around over and over and over again. Opens it. Turns it on its side for everyone to see inside.

Indeed, Grace is gone. All that remains is the red velvet of the interior.

The audience applauds and shouts. Some even give a standing ovation. They've had their magical evening.

Monsieur Dubois takes a bow and then leaves the stage.

That's my signal to close the curtain.

Carey's performance is next. She's sings a jazz number, her voice ringing all through the lounge.

I start to get anxious. Where's Grace? Aren't the assistants supposed to _re_appear after they disappear? I look around. She's nowhere. And no one seems to be the least bit concerned. Not the audience, not Mr. Moseby, not Monsieur Dubois. It appears I'm the only one wondering where she's at.

My stomach clenches and I make a momentary decision. Screw the rest of the show, I need to find Grace! I abandon my post and duck out the back of the stage, sticking to the crevices and shadows to avoid being seen. When I reach the door and burst out into the hallway that leads to the main lobby, I head for the nearest restroom. The pee is about to run down my leg. I quickly relieve myself and then wash my hands, the whole time agonizing over Grace.

It feels strange being so worried. Paranoid, even. Grace can't have gone far. And what could have happened to her? She's probably hiding under the stage right now, waiting for someone to open the door and let her out. She's probably sitting behind some curtain, staring blankly at whatever happens to be in front of her, wondering when the show will be over and she can get back to work.

Yes, I can picture her now. That's exactly what she's doing.

Nothing's happened, no. She's fine. She's just hiding. She's just invisible.

She's always been good at being invisible.

…

She's not hiding.

I don't know where she is, but she's gone from here. It's been a week now and there hasn't been any sign of her. A missing persons report was filed. Employees are on the lookout. Phone calls have been made to her family and friends (which, come to find out, she lacks). Mr. Moseby has desperately been trying to contact Monsieur Dubois, but can't seem to be able to. Last anyone heard, he left the country. Where he went, no one knows.

I haven't been to work all week long. I can't focus. I can barely even walk.

She's gone. _Gone_. Where she went, I may never know. I should have followed my gut instinct—thought less about the possibility of sounding paranoid and more about finding Grace and making sure she was okay. I'll never forgive myself for my stupidity.

I lay here on my bed, curled sideways, eyes puffy and almost glued shut, tears staining my pillow, and I try—try and try and try—to accept it all. That's what the police have been saying lately, that we may have to do some accepting without closure. That's always a possibility in these situations. I understand why they feel the need to say that, but they could be a bit more empathetic. They don't seem to give a damn.

No one gives a damn. Not really. People wonder and question, but they don't actually _care_.

Grace had never been one to assert herself. She'd never really made her presence known, although she was everything in the world to me. Her moment on stage was probably her greatest at The Tipton as far as recognition is concerned.

Figures I would lose her because of it.

She was always invisible, in some form or another.

***'*'*'***

_**My Assigned Pairing:**_

_**Esteban Ramirez**__ was a recurring guest character from __**The Suite Life of Zack and Cody**__ who made one appearance of __**The Suite Life on Deck**__. He worked as a bellhop at The Tipton and often became involved with Zack and Cody's mischief. He was portrayed by __**Adrian R'Mante**__. _

_**Grace**__ was an Asian maid at The Tipton who showed up in the episode "Birdman of Boston" of __**The Suite Life of Zack and Cody**__. She was known for her deadpan expression and emotionless voice. She was portrayed by __**Jessica Lynn**__. _


	15. 2007gracee

**Untitled**

by 2007gracee

***'***

Nia and Cody were on their first date.

"I still remember when I first fell in love with you" said Cody

Flash Back…

"Come on Cody we have to find my skate board or I'll be grounded again."

"Why is that my problem? "Asked Cody

"If I get grounded I'll have nothing to do but harass you all day." persuaded Zack as they came out of the elevator.

"I already told you I refuse to sell bubblegum flavored floss at the candy counter. My guests are on vacation they don't care about dental hygiene." Yelled an irritated Mr. Mosby

"Mr. Mosby who wants to sell bubblegum flavored floss at the candy counter?" asked an astonished Cody

"Just my niece Nia, why she cares so much about hygiene is beyond me."

"Hey Nia, I didn't know you cared about hygiene. I thought all you cared about was fashion" said a now love struck Cody. He had never known a beautiful women who had also cared about hygiene enough to stand up to Mr. Mosby .Even he couldn't do it and he was taller than him.

"Nia let's make a deal. We can go on a date and talk about the floss issue and you can stop bugging your uncle, otherwise he might send you to another relative."

"Thanks for the help." Whispered Mr. Mosby

"Any time "replied Cody

**The End**


	16. SilverTurtle IV

**MISTAKEN IDENTITY**

By SilverTurtle

*****'*****

Nevermore Fashions was doing booming business this quarter. Summer fashions were flying off the racks almost too quickly for the suppliers to keep up. Raven Baxter, founder and owner of Nevermore Fashions, was happy to see her New York location doing so well when she stopped by for a surprise inspection and staff meeting. With the meeting over she was free to walk the floor of her store and watch her employees help her customers find their best look for the summer season. She thrilled to watch dozens of happy buyers leave laden with bags of the finest quality fashions.

And that was only the business happening on the floor for middle income customers. The upper story of the store, that reserved for the rich and famous to order Raven Baxter originals tailor made to their bodies, was a hive of activity as a handful of celebrities came by appointment only to get their measures taken or pick up their completed orders designed by Raven herself and sewn right there in the shop. The publicity she got from celebrities wearing her fashions was worth the trouble keeping a floor exclusive for them, they promoted Nevermore Fashions far more effectively than the magazine ads Raven occasionally ran.

Raven was busy thinking over the designs for fall and winter when a customer wandering through the racks caught her eye. _That can't be who I think it is_, she thought as she maneuvered to get a better look at the woman, _she'd never show up on the floor for 'poor people.'_

But as Raven got a closer look her suspicions were confirmed, that was London Tipton browsing the walk-in section of the store.

"London!" Raven called as she walked up to the other woman, "Girl, what are you doing down here? Do you want the paparazzi swarming you?"

London looked up, her brows drawn together in confusion, and met her eyes, "I'm not London." She continued to leaf through a rack of blouses.

"Uh, I'm looking right at you and you're London," Raven insisted even as London shook her head.

"My name is Tess, not London, and I don't know you so can you please just let me shop in peace?" The woman moved away but Raven pursued.

"Is this one of your wacky schemes or are you just concussed?"

"Oh for heaven's sake! Lady, I'm not London and you're the concussed one if you think otherwise! I'm Tess!" She turned again to leave and Raven caught her arm to stop her.

With her free hand Raven pulled out her cell phone, brought up London's number in her contacts list, and hit the call button. The London in front of her huffed and rolled her eyes but settled her weight on one leg and waited patiently.

"Hello, you've reached London Tipton. Yay me!"

Raven couldn't help but grin as she heard the small flurry of claps on the other end of the line. "London?"

"Hi Raven! What's up?"

"Weirdest thing," Raven replied as she looked over the see the London-look-alike giving her a clear raised eyebrow 'I told you so' look, "I'm at the New York Nevermore and I am looking at your spitting image."

"I don't spit. It's gross."

Raven rolled her own eyes in fond exasperation, "I meant that I'm looking at a woman who looks exactly like you and it's kind of freaking me out."

"Oh. Oh! Is it Tess?" Raven felt her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "Put her on. I need to ask her something."

Raven pulled the phone away from her ear and gave it the incredulous look she wished she could give London then held it out for the look-alike Tess, "Uh, she wants to talk to you."

Tess smiled a little tightly, took the phone, tugged her elbow out of Raven's grasp, stepped a short distance away, and answered in a resigned tone of voice, "Hello, London."

Raven watched, sort of fascinated, as Tess held a brief conversation with London.

"What? Another event? Tomorrow?!" Tess flung her free hand up in the air and spun to begin pacing, "London, that's way too short notice! I've got things I need to do. And it's a Tipton event! Why can't you go?" Her spine straightened suddenly as she questioned incredulously, "A date?!" Tess' eyebrows snapped together as she frowned, "Aren't you supposed to bring dates to this type of thing anyway? But-," Tess listened for a moment, her posture softening a little before she sighed. "I have nothing to wear." Tess' eyes slipped over to Raven for a moment before sliding away, "She won't mind? You're sure?" Tess rolled her eyes and blew out an exasperated puff, "Fine. But I want double the usual amount and you'll owe me one." Tess rolled her eyes but then smiled, "Have a good date, London. Good luck." Tess returned to Raven and handed the phone over, "She needs to talk to you again."

Raven lifted the phone to her ear and said, "London?"

"Hey, Raven, I have a huge favor to ask you."

"Okay," Raven replied carefully, "what is it?"

"I need you to outfit Tess for the Tipton Auction for Charity tomorrow."

"What? London, are you crazy? I'm the best but even I can't throw something together that quickly!"

"Look, it doesn't have to be as fabulously flashy as you usually do for me. Tess wouldn't wear something like that anyway so go elegant and understated. I know you've got a couple of things cooking, you always do, just fit something to her and make her look presentable. Please?"

Raven sighed, "I can try. But if I'm going to do this I've got to know why you're having her impersonate you at a _Tipton_ event. There had better be a good reason."

There was a pause at the other end of the line, "This doesn't go beyond you and Tess for now."

Raven's eyebrow lifted, that was intriguing, "My lips are sealed. Spill it, girl!"

"Tomorrow's kind of an anniversary for me and Maddie. We're staying in tomorrow night," there was another pause on the line where Raven could hear the deep breath London took before whispering, "I bought a ring."

Raven's jaw dropped for a long moment before she recovered her powers of speech. "Oh, London," she said softly, her lips pulling into a smile, "really?" Raven turned her eyes and saw Tess wearing the same sort of smile she could feel on her own face.

"Yeah. It's about time, don't you think?"

Raven laughed a little, "Past it. Congratulations."

"She hasn't said yes yet."

"She will." Raven assured as a feeling of certainty settled in her bones, an aspect of her unusual power that had made navigating her visions a little easier. "Alright then. That's definitely a good reason. I'll take care of our girl here. You take care of your girl."

"Thank you, Raven. You have no idea what this means to me." Raven could hear the emotion in London's voice as it came through the line a little heavier than it had been before, "I owe you both big time."

Raven shrugged, "Let me design your dresses for the occasion and we'll be even."

London laughed, "Deal."

They hung up without customary good-byes, not needing them, and Raven looked Tess up and down. "Do you have the same measurements as she does?"

Tess shrugged, "More or less. I've fit in her clothes before just fine."

Raven nodded, "Come on then, I've got a few things to try on you."

Raven took Tess to the top floor and back into a fitting room. She'd grabbed an armful of unfinished dresses, those not specific to any customer, and quickly had Tess stripped down and modeling the different designs and colors.

"So, do you impersonate London often?" Raven asked as she tugged the fabric of the skirt into a sleeker line.

Tess looked down from her elevated position on a stool and shrugged, "A few times a year, when London asks me to. She pays well and the swag is great."

Raven laughed, "You must be one of the best kept secrets of the rich and famous. I had no idea London had a look-alike."

Tess grinned. "I'm under contract not to say anything about it unless she reveals it to the world at large."

Raven shook her head in wonderment, "I'm sure I've seen you walk carpets as her before," Tess nodded agreement, "You act so much like her I'd never know the difference."

"She and I spend time together every couple of months and we Skype a lot to make sure I can imitate her perfectly. I'm the only reason she's been able to take any vacations in the last few years. She goes somewhere remote while I make a splash for her somewhere else." Tess smiled, "It's been kind of fun for the most part. Situations like this one aside, she usually lets me know about these things weeks in advance so I can brush up on being her. Planning tomorrow night must have kept her seriously preoccupied."

Raven laughed, "Well, it is a pretty big life changing thing she's doing. I think we can forgive her absentmindedness."

"Just this once," Tess jokingly agreed.

"I think this dress would work for tomorrow," Raven said as she stepped back and gave Tess a critical once over, twirling her hand to get Tess to spin, taking in the way the fabric clung to breasts and hips and flowed loose and sweeping down to her ankles. "It's classy but fun. Not too flashy but still attention grabbing because of the shape."

"The shape of me or it?" Tess asked as she twisted her hips to make the skirt swish around her legs.

Raven watched her and smiled as she admired the way the dress enhanced an already attractive form, "Both. You've got a great body. The dress just makes sure everyone who sees you knows it."

Tess grinned and reached out to push at Raven's shoulder, "Quit perving on me, we've got work to do."

Raven chuckled, "You're right. We still have to find undergarments, shoes, and a purse. At least we have the dress sorted. I'll have one of my seamstresses tailor it to your measurements as soon as we get you out of it."

Raven held out her hand and steadied Tess as she stepped down off the stool making a crack about Raven getting her naked already and how they barely knew each other.

As soon as the skin of their hands touched Raven was thrown into a vision. Tess in the dress smiling and laughing for flashing cameras. Tess in a darkened room lit only by moonlight with the dress an inky puddle of fabric around her ankles. Tess walking towards her in silk lingerie. Tess whispering Raven's name into a quiet night.

Raven blinked and shook her head as a hot blush worked its way up her neck and that same certainty from before settled in her bones again. This was a vision that would come to pass.

Tess looked at her concerned, "Are you okay? You look kind of flushed."

"Fine!" Raven squeaked, "Great. Peachy. Wonderful. I'm gonna – go – look for – things. Yes. You should change." Raven stumbled over her words a bit but got her sentence out, spun on her heel, and fled the fitting room.

She turned a corner and came face to bodice of a rack of Nevermore lingerie, more specifically a set of lingerie that was an exact match for the set in her vision. She groaned softly as an image of Tess in that lingerie flashed through her mind unbidden but not unpleasant.

"Hey, those look great!" Tess appeared behind Raven and pulled the set from the rack. "This would fit under the dress, right?" Raven nodded completely unable to form words, "Awesome. It's even in my size! I'll try it on right now."

Raven coughed into her fist, "No need. It'll fit."

Tess gave Raven an odd look, "How do you know?"

Raven licked her lips with another image of Tess swimming in her mind's eye, "Just a feeling. But trust me, they'll fit." And Raven suddenly couldn't wait until tomorrow when she knew she'd see first hand how right she was. She smiled and bounced a little on her toes, "So, let's get the rest of this figured out and we'll make sure you're the hottest woman at that event."

Tess laughed and looped her arm through Raven's, the lingerie still dangling from her other hand, "Exactly how London would want it!"

_Not exactly_, Raven thought because she was sure London wouldn't anticipate the events of Raven's vision, _but it's definitely something I want!_

**THE END**

*****'*****

_**A/N:**__ I made up the name of Nevermore Fashions as a bit of a play on Raven's name and the famous Edgar Allen Poe poem __**The Raven**__ for the line "Quoth the raven, 'Nevermore.'". 'Nevermore' means 'never again' and I thought it'd be fun to apply that to her fashion line in the sense that her fashions would never be repeated and so would always be unique. _

_Raven Baxter is the lead character from __**That's So Raven**__, portrayed by Raven-Symoné, who has psychic abilities which often got her into boatloads of trouble in her youth. She appeared in the 2006 __**The Suite Life of Zack and Cody**__ super cr ossover episode called "That's So Suite Life of Hannah Montana". _

_Tess Wong is the uncanny doppleganger of London Tipton, played by Brenda Song, who appeared on the ship during **T**__**he **__**Suite Life On Deck**__ episode "My Sister's Keeper."_


	17. Purplewowies II

_**A/N:** Ignore the fact that Hannah Montana has outed herself. Fun fact: This story was titled "The Truth" until I saw those college athlete people dancing to "Call Me Maybe" on The Today Show._

**Call Me Maybe**

A Suite Life Strange Love Fanfic

by purplewowies

***'***

"Hannah! Hannah! Hannah! Hannah!" the crowd pulsed loudly inside the stadium.

Outside, a nervous boy scoured the front of the stadium, looking for some way he could get in. Seeing no way, he started to venture to the side of the building.

A few feet away, a disgruntled voice was heard at the ticket booth.

"What do you mean, you can't let me in? My name should be on the list of people who don't need tickets!" a young woman said.

"Sorry, but I don't see a 'Lilly Truscott' on here. Vacate the line," the bored-looking ticket booth worker replied, his voice cracking. She hesitated for a few seconds, looking for an easy way around this obstacle, before she reluctantly obeyed.

"Why did I have to give my disguise to Miley?" she grumbled under her breath as she walked to the side of the building. She wondered how hard the stage door would be to get into this time. As she rounded the corner she was surprised to see no one at the door except for a scrawny young man who was pacing at the bottom of the stairs leading to the door. He appeared to be looking for a way in himself. She quietly approached the door and spoke up.

"What are you doing?"

The young man jumped at the sound of another being interfering with his thoughts and plans. He turned around, his eyes revealing a plainly dressed girl with blond hair and green eyes that were staring him down. Seeing that she didn't appear to be some sort of concert official, he opted to tell her the truth. He sighed.

"Honestly... I had tickets, but I don't have them now," he said, realizing how stupidly fake that explanation sounded as soon as the words had left his mouth.

Lilly opened her mouth, poised to speak, but suddenly closed it as her cold eyes began to gleam with recognition.

"Aren't you that kid that Hannah ate cake off of? And isn't your girlfriend a huge Hannah fan? Where is she?"

"No, that was my brother," he said, his voice carrying a weight, as if he were tired of explaining things like this, "and—wait a minute, how do you know about that?" he asked incredulously.

Lilly tried to cover her gargantuan mistake. "Umm... I think I heard Hannah mention it on an interview once," she stated coolly.

"Oh... okay," he said, sounding a bit taken off, as if he didn't quite buy her story, but at same time with a tinge of excitement at the prospect that he was mentioned in an interview. He continued.

"But no, Bailey's not here as far as I know. I, ah, actually broke up with her after I found out she was cheating on me. I didn't realize she still had both the tickets at her house until tonight, and I really don't feel like going back to her house, if you know what I mean."

"Yeah, I get you," she said. "I've had my fair share of guys cheat on me," she finished, frowning. "I actually found out just a couple days ago that my boyfriend Oliver was cheating on me. With Jake Ryan!"

"Well... he probably didn't _really_ love you anyway..." he said with a chuckle.

Lilly's face broke into a smile. "Yeah, but that doesn't make it hurt any less."

"Where'd he meet Jake Ryan, anyway? Is he some obsessed _Zombie High_ fan that snuck into his dressing room and then ended up in some sort of bad fanfic?" Cody laughed.

"Heh, no. I live in Malibu. Jake goes to my school."

"Oh, that must have been nice."

"Eh, not until he got over his famousness. I mean, it was kinda hot at first, but it got old fast."

"I bet." Cody paused. "So, what brings you all the way to New England if you live in California?"

"Umm... it's a long story."

"Well, you have plenty of time to tell it, presuming you were trying to sneak in like me. That door's locked."

Lilly sighed and almost cursed under her breath at both her luck and her stupidity. She had also accidentally given her phone to Miley, so no one could get them in. She looked right and left, and then started.

"You have to promise you won't tell anyone what you hear here tonight."

A strange look crossed Cody's face. "Okay..."

"I'm Lola Luftnagle."

Cody was silent for a second, then burst out laughing.

"No, seriously, what's the story?" he forced out between giggles.

"That is the story... and I trust you enough to tell you this. At least I'm not like Mi—...m-my Hannah, who's told her story to more than a few random people..."

"Like who?"

"The President... a police officer's superfan daughter... an entire town in Tennessee..."

"Okay, okay, I get it... what's the long story, then?"

"Well I've known Mi—Hannah ever since she moved to California when she was in seventh grade, and I wanted to be her groupie. She said I needed a disguise, so I got a red wig and called myself Lola LaFonda. A couple concerts later, I changed it to Lola Luftnagle and started wearing a lavender wig..."

Two hours later, Lilly was almost finished with her story, and the two had forgotten all about the concert.

"And that's why I'm here. As well as everything I've experienced in the past five years. Satisfied?"

"Yeah. Just one question. Why do you keep calling Hannah 'my Hannah'?"

"Umm..." Lily knew she had slipped up a few too many times. She decided that, like she'd done with herself, she should just tell the truth. It wasn't like one more random person knowing the secret would hurt. Especially when the last random person Miley had told was a superfan who had known which eye Hannah winked at which concert.

"You know how I made you promise not to tell anyone I was Lola?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, the same promise goes here. Except if this one gets out and I find out you told it, I _will_ hunt you down and kill you."

"Okay. I promise not to tell."

"You know Hannah's not a real person, right?"

"Umm... duh! Who on Earth would have the last name 'Montana'? And besides, she's so incredibly absent from the public view when she's not at events or concerts that it's a wonder more people haven't caught on."

"Yeah... well... she's my best friend... and her name is Miley."

"Okay. So what's your real name?"

"Lilly. Lilly Truscott."

"That's a pretty name. I'm Cody Martin." He held out his hand.

"Nice to meet you," she said, taking it and shaking it.

"You, too. Listening to that story you told, I feel like I've known you for five years!"

"Heh... yeah. Yet I know almost nothing about you," she smiled.

"Umm... I want to give you something." Cody scrawled something on a piece of paper, then folded it and handed it to Lilly.

"What's this?"

"Um, uh, my phone number," Cody said quietly, as if he were suddenly slightly embarrassed.

An awkward look crossed Lilly's face. "Oh... I'm not looking for a boyfriend right now."

"And I'm not looking for a girlfriend. I figured we could just talk. Maybe I could tell you my story," he replied optimistically.

"Okay. I'd like that," she grinned. She pulled out a piece of paper, scrawled her number on it, and handed it to Cody.

Suddenly, Cody's phone vibrated. He pulled it out and saw he'd gotten a text from his brother.

"I'm so sorry. My ride's here. I really liked talking with you, and I hope we get to do it again!" He walked slowly backwards, hesitating to leave for fear of never hearing from this girl again, before she gave him a smile and wave of farewell, at which point he turned around and started moving faster.

He ran to Zack, who was sitting in his car at the end of the alley.

"So... who's that girl you were with?"

"Just someone I met tonight."

"Way to go, man! You think she'll replace Bailey?"

Cody became visibly uncomfortable at the word "replace," but he understood what his brother had meant.

"Maybe... but probably not anytime soon."

Back at the building, a girl with light brown curls stepped out of the shadows at the stage door behind Lilly, who was staring at the place where the car that had taken Cody away was parked.

"Hey, sorry for taking your disguise... and your cell phone."

"Eh, it's okay. I had fun out here during the concert anyway."

"Yeah, I know. I saw you talking with that guy for, like, the last 30 minutes. Do think he and you could become more than friends?" Miley said, trying to phrase her sentence carefully, knowing Lilly was still hurting from her breakup with Oliver.

"Probably not anytime soon, but maybe one day," she smiled.

"By the way, I heard you told him the secret."

"You're not mad, are you?"

"Nah, I've told plenty of people it probably wasn't a good idea to tell. And it's not like he's a lunatic. At least, I hope not," she smiled. "Let's go; my dad's probably in the car grooving to the oldies, and I bet it's getting uglier by the decade!" Miley laughed. Lilly laughed as well as she put her arm around Miley's shoulder.

The two walked away from the building to where Miley's father's car was sitting in the parking lot, and the group trekked to the airport and headed home.

A couple of hours later, a text message arrived at a cell phone in suite 2330 of the Boston Tipton Hotel.

"I'd love to hear your story. Call me maybe?"

_"Hey, I just met you, and this is crazy, but here's my number, so call me maybe." – __**Carly Rae Jepsen, "Call Me Maybe"**_

***'***

**My assigned pairing:**

**Cody Martin- **That hot, intelligent guy with great hair on _Suite Life on Deck_. :) He is portrayed by **Cole Sprouse**, who has been a student at New York University for the past year and whose latest project was a guest role as himself in the Disney Channel Original Series _So Random_, which aired in January.

**Lilly Truscott/Lola Luftnagle- **Miley's best friend in _Hannah Montana_. She is portrayed by **Emily Osment**, whose latest projects are _Kiss Me _and a voice role as Pep in _Beverly Hills Chihuahua 3: Viva La Fiesta!_

**Other characters:**

**Zack Martin- **Cody's twin brother on _Suite Life on Deck_. He is portrayed by **Dylan Sprouse**, who has been a student at New York University for the past year and whose latest project was a guest role as himself in the Disney Channel Original Series _So Random_, which aired in January.

**Miley Stewart-** the mild-mannered alter ego of Hannah Montana in the show _Hannah Montana_. Portrayed by **Miley Cyrus**, whose latest projects are a role as herself in _The Conversation_ and the role of Molly in _So Undercover._


End file.
